


The Stars that Stop Shining

by Ocreata



Series: Faith Shepard [2]
Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Banter, Battle Couple, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Sex, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, not entirely canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 135,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28213896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ocreata/pseuds/Ocreata
Summary: **This Mostly Follows the Plotline of ME2**Faith Shepard has been dead for two years, and Garrus Vakarian has carved out something like a life for himself on Omega.It isn't legal, and it certainly isn't by the books, but he's doing his best to remember what's left of the things Faith saw in him- and herself.  Everything's a struggle.  He's starting to believe there isn't any hope left for justice in a place like this, but then she shows up again.  She saves more than his life.Shepard saves...everything.He'll follow her, even if the people she's answering to are what he thought were their enemies- the terrorist organization Cerberus.  But she's strange.  Faith is wrong, but he's never going to leave her behind again.  He belongs at her back, as long as it's her.It is her, isn't it?Spirits...what if it isn't?
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Shakarian
Series: Faith Shepard [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998265
Comments: 180
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “If a person loves a flower that is the only one of its kind on all the millions and millions of stars, then gazing at the night sky is enough to make him happy. He says to himself "My flower is out there somewhere." But if the lamb eats the flower, then suddenly it's as if all the stars had stopped shining. Isn't that important?”
> 
> ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince 
> 
> [Playlist is a work in progress, will change](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ETYAypvAG5sY5ROXIUgdO)
> 
> [But here's a song if you don't want the list ](https://open.spotify.com/track/6xJ346fhznUBsuekeNb63U)

A voice rolled through the alley, somehow intimately friendly but with an undertone of sharpened steel- a blade wrapped in velvet.

“Are you _sure_ you didn't have something to say?”

The neon lights cut between the gaps in the buildings, fighting the oppressive shadows that hid them from the lower Ward nightlife. From here there weren't voices, just a faint murmur of sound like waves on the shore. An oasis of isolation.

Falling against the wall as he was shoved, slumping to the ground, the battered salarian lifted a shaking hand to wipe his cheek, pupils slitted to almost nothing.

He didn't say a word.

The figure in the shadows sighed. “I'm trying to help you out here, I really am. There's just one problem. I want to be your friend, but-”

A hand extended into a patch of white-blue light, giving the green blood spattered across its knuckles an eerie aqua gleam.

“He doesn't. He just wants you to talk.”

Jerked back up from the ground, head snapping back, the salarian was lifted to meet the fist again. This time the punch was at full force, no playing around. It landed with a vicious crack, and the salarian was released immediately, letting the impact throw him back against the wall. He fell in a heap. Seconds passed, a chattering group sauntering by, blissfully aware what was happening feet away.

No signs of the earlier fear and confusion were evident as the salarian's eyes slit open cautiously.

Just wariness.

Garrus sighed, taking a step out of the shadows. He crouched down in front of the guy, resting his arms on his knees as he leaned in, voice calm and earnest. “Listen, I already know enough to figure this out without you, I'm just trying to save myself time- and I'm trying to save your life, Maren.”

“Save my life?” the salarian finally asked, nasal voice harsh and brusque.

“Yeah, see...” He lifted his bloody left hand, turning it over a couple of times, inspecting. Rolling his thumb across his finger, he smeared the blood slowly across his skin. “This is the good cop.” Lifting his right hand off his knee, he jerked it back. Feeling the smooth grip of his pistol slide into his grip, he unholstered it- a blur of motion.

Maren went still as the pistol pressed a divot into his forehead.

“This is the bad cop.”

Silence stretched between them, tense as a taut wire. He watched the shift in the salarian's pupils in the dim multichromatic light, the way his chest rose and fell. Impatience crept along his nerves, and he couldn't have helped the twitch of his fingers if he'd wanted to, tightening on the gun.

Maren spoke up, wary, but with a heightened cadence and pitch that spoke of panic. “All I know is the element zero is mined on Therum. It was marked on the packages I received.”

Garrus sighed, heavily. Reaching up, he grabbed his gun with his other hand and pushed it aside. Before Maren could do more than begin to relax, he released his own wrist and punched him in the face, again. While he was still reeling, the pistol came back up again.

“Now, you _know_ that wasn't what I asked. I'm not looking for the op, I'm looking for the one running it. Looking for the one bringing red sand onto this station. Names, Maren. Names. I'm starting to think you don't want to be my friend.”

Maren spit green blood onto the ground, careful not to turn his head. “Maybe I'm not afraid of C-Sec.”

“C-Sec? Oh, no, Maren. You don't have to be afraid of C-Sec,” Garrus assured him in a slow, tense drawl. He smiled, voice low and confiding, light slashing across his face in fragments as he leaned in close.“It's me you need to be afraid of.”

Their eyes met for another stretch of silence. Glancing down briefly, Garrus shook his head and started pointedly curling his fingers back into a fist. He wasn't walking out of here without the names. The bastard had been allowed to get away with this shit for long enough.

“Come on. You already know how this is going to keep going, but-”

Maren interrupted quickly. “Farris. Farris Egan, he ships out of Omega on some piece of shit ship called the Brunhildyr. I don't know who he works for, but I've heard he's connected to the Blue Suns somehow.”

There was a long pause between them.

The world moved on without acknowledging them, laughter and life. In their alcove away from it all it was nothing but pulses and impulses, the shadows while the light moved on without touching them. Garrus let the tension stretch.

A decent chance Maren was lying, but an even better chance that he wasn't. They'd been leaning on his business for a while, it was getting more and more unprofitable. He probably already had at least one different exit strategy from the red sand smuggling business. Never underestimate a salarian.

Unfortunately, Maren had made one big mistake. He'd thought Garrus was like other turians. Following the rules. Unfortunately, he wasn't, and didn't. Maren had brought in a lot of product that had gotten a lot of people killed.

His finger twitched on the trigger.

A voice in his mind was like a hand laid over his, forcing him to pause just long enough to listen- remember.

_There's no mercy unless we make it._

Thank you, star.

Garrus breathed in, pushed it back, let himself find calm.

“Thanks so much for your willing cooperation.” The pistol was jerked back in one smooth movement, and Garrus holstered it as he rose to his feet. The bitter bad mood that had dragged him here didn't feel any lighter, but at least he'd gotten what he wanted. The small pouch of medi-gel he'd brought was tossed casually, quickly scrabbled up off the ground by the salarian. “I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a funeral to go to.”

He should probably wash off the blood before he went to the hospital; questions would just make today worse.

And it was already the second-worst day of his life.

His Faith should have been smiling.

The picture they'd used was so wrong that Garrus was offended, even from his vantage at the back with a cascade of bodies in the way. Shepard was serious, freckled face sternly composed, dark eyes staring fixedly at nothing. She was proud of the N7 uniform, and he got that was why they'd used her graduation picture, but her face was wrong and it dug at all the raw parts inside of him.

There should have been a sly little smile at the corner of her mouth, beautiful eyes wry.

It wasn't her.

The open courtyard that had been rented for the public ceremony was full of greenery and the soft trickle of the water feature that surrounded the boundaries of the area. Artificial sun shone down on the crowd, which was packed way too tight for comfort. So many people here for someone only a fraction of them knew.

It felt like a damned freak show.

“You sure you don't wanna get closer?”

Glancing down at the wheelchair he was resting a hand on, Garrus met Joker's eyes. He didn't bother to hide the frustrated misery- not from him. “I'm here for you, not because I want to be. If you want to be closer...”

“Nah, afraid someone will bump into me,” Joker said, sounding as drained as Garrus felt. He didn't blame the guy. Months in the hospital would do that to someone. “Plus, I don't want to see the kid, you know? I don't know what to say to Em. Sorry I killed your mom?”

“Stop that,” Garrus said brusquely, but he understood the anger. It was seething in both of them, raw and furious and hurt. “She wouldn't ever think of it like that, you know that.”

“I know,” Joker said bitterly. “But Faith's not here to stop me.”

She wasn't there to stop either of them.

He would have put a hand on Joker's shoulder, but he knew he healed slow and the collarbone fractures had been excruciating. Garrus had learned a lot about human bones over the last couple months. Fragile things. Especially in this case.

“I thought I wanted to be here, but I don't,” Joker muttered.

“I've got you for an hour and a half before they hunt us down and drag you back. You want to go get a drink instead? Are you on meds?”

He'd wanted to say something to the kid, but he'd underestimated how bad it would be to be here. It wasn't just the picture, it was the fake mourning by a bunch of people who didn't know her. It was Anderson looking stoic but hollow, standing next to a stern woman who could only be Faith's mother. Her hair, her face. His failure.  
Why would he stick around? What could he say to her?

_I'm sorry, it's all my fault._

_I promised to be at her back, and I wasn't._

It felt like a vice on his heart and a weight in his stomach, pulling him down with a force more crushing than the gravity of a thousand suns.

No, he couldn't face the Captain.

“She'd probably prefer if we went to a bar. As much as I'm appreciating the dark humor of a bunch of people who never knew her crying over an empty coffin, Faith would think this was fucking ghoulish.”

“That's because it is,” Garrus said bitterly under his breath.

Joker snorted.

The listing of accomplishments was finally over, impressively long as it was for someone her age. From what Faith had told him of her mother, he wasn't surprised she didn't get up to talk. He expected no one would but Anderson, but the first person to the podium wasn't either. It was a human man he didn't recognize, pale hair almost gone silver in the way of old humans, dark eyes.

He recognized those eyes, but they were wrong.

Just like Faith's in the picture were wrong- cold, unfamiliar, humorless.

“Oh no,” Joker said, disgust dripping. “Yeah, no, we're leaving.”

“Is that who I think it is?” Garrus asked quietly, stepping back to give Joker some room as the wheelchair pivoted without further discussion. He already knew it was. He'd been avoiding the news as much as possible, but if he knew Faith's opinion of her father. She despised him.

“Yeah. And right now I'm kind of thinking 'honoring her memory' means getting the hell out of here.”

“Yeah,” Garrus agreed. He couldn't get out of this farce fast enough. Luckily they were at the back of the crowd, only a few latecomers to move out of their way. The man's words rang out, full of hollow sentiment, pride unearned, and worse than that...worse than that.

“...our beloved daughter, Faith Marie Sidonie Shepard.”

_Fuck you, you bastard._

He retreated to try and contain his anger, following Joker. Back by the exit to the courtyard was a small, elderly human woman with curly gray hair and watery blue eyes who looked _at_ them. Watching them as they escaped. No one else here had.

He was averting his eyes from her knowing, soft look when they passed by her.

She spoke, quietly. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

“It's a loss for the galaxy,” Joker said sarcastically, repeating a line from the earlier speech.

“For some of us, it's more than that.” She offered something in a small, wrinkled hand.

Joker just rolled onward, but Garrus paused. Their eyes met. He couldn't see anything in them that was pitying, or otherwise dismissive. Just sad and understanding.

“I'm sorry for your loss,” she repeated, directly to him.

He didn't know her, but there was something in her expression that briefly calmed enough of the anger inside him to feel the grief underneath he was hiding from. Just enough to recognize they were both feeling it. Then Garrus pushed it back down, hard. “And yours,” he said, finding it was genuine.

He blindly took whatever it was she was offering out, and then followed Joker before he could get too far away. Garrus wouldn't let him get any more injured. He'd been in the hospital for too long already.

He clutched the small card in his palm as they made their way in silence. Of those who had survived the Normandy's destruction, understandably only Joker was still in the hospital. Karin Chakwas was working, and others had been reassigned. Due to his medical issues, Joker was still laid up.

Delirious one night in the hospital, Joker had confessed how Faith had thrown him into the escape pod and sent him off alone before going to look for others. That guilt still ate at him. Just like Garrus' ate at him- they hadn't talked about it, but it still hung between them. Acknowledging the shit they were carrying around.

They found a bar that wasn't crowded, a server pulling a few chairs away for Joker. Garrus moved and pulled the table out a bit before settling himself, putting his body between Joker and the room. He didn't want to get yelled at by the doctors.

“What do you need?” the Asari server asked brusquely after sliding the seats to another table. “We don't do food. Deal with it.”

Yeah, this was the right place.

“You got beer?” Joker asked, and she tilted her head. “Great. If you've got a lager that isn't piss, I'll take that.”

“You?” The Asari's chin tilted towards Garrus.

“I don't suppose you have any whiskey that's guaranteed protein-free?” he asked, already knowing the answer when when she tilted her head and gave a faint scoff. “Right. Of course not. Horosk, triple. No ice.”

“One piss-water, one deathwish, coming up.”

The server walked away without any further commentary, though the scorn in her voice lingered. It was fair. Turning his gaze back to Joker, Garrus leaned against the table.

“No meds?”

“Relax, I haven't taken anything today. They're weaning me off so I don't become a fucking addict,” Joker said, reaching up and adjusting the cap he refused to get rid of, no matter how battered it was now. “That funeral was a joke.”

He couldn't deny that was true. “If the Captain knows how she felt about her father, why the hell would they let him speak- let alone first?”

“I take it Faith didn't talk a lot about the Captain, which is fair. She wasn't ever much for talking about herself. Uh...the Captain doesn't believe in making waves.”

“Making...” Garrus could sort of parse the idiom, but it was unfamiliar.

“Rise above. Ignore detractors. Don't make noise, don't cause conflict. It works for the Captain, but it never really worked for Faith,” Joker said dourly. When their drinks were thumped down on the table, his hand hesitantly pulled back from the violence of it. The liquid sloshed in both of their glasses. “So she probably just let him because he was loud.”

When things finally settled, Joker reached for it. Garrus followed suit. He took a judicious sip of the horosk, finding it just about as bad as he expected. Rough, searing the inside of his throat. Somehow, he managed not to cough, setting the glass aside.

His other hand came up, idly turning over the thing that had been pressed on him by the old woman.

“I'm sure the media will eat it up.”

Joker snorted. “How great for them. What do you have there?”

Garrus turned his attention down to the card, which was a pretty archaic embossed plastic rather than holographic. “That woman we saw, it's-”

The name silenced him.

Joker put up with his reticence for about three seconds. “Who?”

“Doctor Amanda Abernathy,” he finally said, turning it over in his fingers. Just a name and a comm address.

It had to be-

Faith's therapist. It made sense she'd recognized who Joker was. Should he be displeased or pleased that she seemed to know who he was as well? He had no idea. It was all complicated. Confusing.

It took Joker a couple seconds but then he sighed, reaching for his beer. “Well, I feel like slightly more of an asshole than usual. I wouldn't have said that shit if I knew it was Amanda. I've never met her.”

“How long were they...how long did they work together?” He asked, turning the card over in his fingers.

“Over ten years. Since she was a kid. Two years longer than I knew her,” Joker said, turning his attention to his beer. “I-”

He cut off abruptly as the vids above the bar began speaking, conversations petering out. Records of the funeral, superimposed with the devastation of the citadel. Beautifully fucking edited news reports. It wasn't about her any more. Every one pulled the person she really was further away from what everyone believed.

What they wanted his Faith to be.

Shepard was obviously misled.

...confused

….lied to.

There were no Reapers.

“How long?” Joker's voice cracked painfully. “How fucking long before they bury everything we did?”

“Hey,” Garrus said, awkwardly. “They can't bury it all.”

“They're calling her a liar and she's dead, Garrus.” The glass at Joker's hand was empty.

The taciturn Asari came to refill it. Garrus tried to nurse his, but every time her face flashed across a screen it was lifted to his lips. It was empty far too fast. Refilled too fast.

They just drank.

At some point a nurse had come for Joker, flustered and angry.

They'd said goodbye, unrepentant.

Obviously he shouldn't have taken Joker to a bar in his state, but Garrus wasn't feeling much like toeing the line at the moment. It was all bullshit. He sat sunk into the corner, glass to hand, eyes on the vid. So many fucking nice words.

So much manipulation.

_A human plot to take over the Council?_

_First human Spectre saves Citadel from rogue turian Spectre!_

_Primarch Disavows Saren Arterias_

_Hundreds of thousands die to protect Alliance fleet_

_Alliance fleet suffers great losses to rescue the Citadel_

_First human Spectre dies to protect the Citadel._

Another clip on the vid over the bar, Emily Wong's earnest face lifting the microphone across the way to his Faith. She wasn't like the picture, wrong and empty. It was completely her, friendly and open and more than a little charmingly manipulative- complete trouble. His Trouble. She leaned in, faintly pink lips curling into that mischievous smile.

Too flirtatious.

_Faith, you just can't help yourself, can you?_

His glass had been refilled, and then drained, and then refilled again. It didn't matter, they made him pay between rounds now. It gradually felt like death and tasted like nothing. His head was hazy, tight, brushing away all the feelings to let in the numbness.

He should have been worried about how familiar that numbness was becoming, but they wouldn't take her off the fucking screen.

Why wouldn't they let her go?

If she disappeared, this would be so much easier. If he wasn't here, he wouldn't have to see her, but he'd made a damn promise, so he was. There wasn't any choice, and she was everywhere.

Why the fuck had he let her decide?

He belonged at her back- he'd left it, and now she was dead.

“I should have never let you go,” he groaned, fingers digging into his temples, his crest as his elbows planted on the table. He'd drank too much. Again.

Like he would tomorrow.

Garrus was lethargically sinking into his fifth- maybe sixth drink when there was a pale blur at the edge of his vision. He ignored it, up until a hand grabbed him by the cowl and dragged him to his feet. Limbs heavy, he couldn't block or process what was happening.

Feet staggering, he was dragged towards the entrance, a hand reaching back towards his drink.

“Th-”

Thrown out of the door, staggering across the threshold, he fought to keep his uneven footing as he whipped around. He staggered across the corridor outside the door. It wasn't the widest hall, his shoulders hit a wall, hard, making a neon sign above flicker at his impact. Garrus muttered, more disoriented than hurt.

“Wha-”

“How dare you!” A familiar voice.

“Right?” Garrus mumbled, lifting a hand as he finally lifted his gaze. Uneven and hazy, he finally registered who it was that was trying to glare him into nothingness. “...sir.”

“Sir,” Castis repeated sarcastically, staring down at him with an air that would made any other version of him shrink into the floor. “I'm surprised you remember.”

“I took the day off.” He pressed a hand to a windowsill set into the smooth wall, pushing up to his feet. Glancing down at himself, he noted blearily, “I'm not on duty.”

No, this was armor Faith had found for him.

“I told you to leave Maren alone! I've been working on that surveillance for months!” Castis snapped.

Garrus wiped a hand down his face. Stay calm. “You let him go. I got the information. I know the name of his supplier, sir, I know his ship-”

Castis arm-barred him across the chest, slamming him back into the wall. It was strange to feel now that his father was weaker than him, age and experience taking their tolls. It still worked, but it wasn't the same as it was.

Everything was different, but the ice in Castis' eyes wasn't.

“How does any of it matter? Information gained by illegal means is nothing! We can't take your torture to court, Garrus!”

Anger rose, but he didn't fight against the arm on his chest. Instead he forced his eyes open, meeting the ones exactly on his level. He stared at his father. No. All of this could have been avoided.

“None of this would have happened if you followed the lead I gave you,” Garrus said, low and cold.

Castis didn't so much as flinch. “That information was gained illegally.”

Anger rose, shattering ice with lava, overwhelming him as he forced away the hold, sending his father staggering back a step. “Why the hell does it matter?!” His voice echoed, and he couldn't have stopped himself now if he wanted to. “There are people dying! There are people dying right this damned second, and you're letting them because I beat the answers out of some scumbag instead of asking him politely!”

“There are rules, Garrus!” Castis snapped, voice underlaid with so many levels of frustration and anger that there was no room for anything else. “There are laws!”

“Justice...we have to make justice,” Garrus said, feeling his own voice falter under the weight of his father's. “He wouldn't talk unless I made him...”

“Law is the only justice,” Castis said coldly, glancing aside and shaking his head. “I've put up with this for longer than I should. I should have never let you go with that Spectre.”

Their eyes met, ice against ice. Everything froze, and Garrus dragged himself upwards, refusing to break it. Castis was in full C-Sec unform, as always, but Garrus could see the weariness. He might be decorated and revered, but he was long past retirement.

Garrus pulled himself out of the shame and frustration. “Don't you dare. Don't you dare say a _word_ about her.”

“It seems it's needed,” Castis snapped.

The rage rose, but he pushed it down, thrust it aside, because it was time to make things right. “No. The ship. I know the name of the smuggler's ship- Brunhildyr. It's docking tomorrow, it needs to be locked down.”

“We have no evidence,” Castis said quietly.

“What does my word mean?!” Garrus spat, stepping forward as his father turned away. “You've seen it! You've seen it all, and you still won't listen? You know how much they all lie!”

_Commander Shepard- Delusional?_

_The Reaper Hoax_

_Hysteria! Human Conspiracy Theories_

All of it rolled through his head, twisted up with his emotions, making this all worse. No, there was no justice, no truth when people wouldn't listen and twisted it around. He knew it was true- why wasn't that enough?

“Everyone lies, son,” Castis said, tiredly. “I need evidence. Real evidence, legally obtained.”

“I have all the damned evidence you need!”

Somehow they'd passed into a courtyard, the Citdael arching overhead. There was a distant trickle of water, and nearby Avina watched them, glowing and expectant. It was still night here, the light faintly blue, cascading across the walkway from inset lights in the walls.

“You have nothing legal,” Castis said, turning to face him. Nothing in his expression gave away his emotions, and his voice, both surface and sub-vocal, were tightly controlled. “If you try _anything_ like this again, Garrus...I'll take you into custody myself. This is your last chance. I'll go to the Executor myself.”

Staring at his father in the darkness, sobriety washed over Garrus. He meant it. This was it for him, he could either go back to toeing the line, or follow the lead he'd been given.

The Brunhildyr was scheduled to be back on Omega in six days.

Meeting his father's eyes, Garrus lifted his chin, mandibles twitching before he fought them under control. This was it. A choice.

“I understand, father.”

Castis turned and left him, striding off into the darkness. Garrus watched him go, breathing slowly. It was too late- it was time to go. But still...there was one person he couldn't just leave behind.

He'd made a promise.

_Hey, Ems. Ditching comms. Call you soon, soldier._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this isn't so much canon divergent as this is slightly altering the timeline to make things meet up differently. Also maybe a little canon divergence :P . But only for maximum angst- you wouldn't be here if you didn't like it, right? I bring the pain!
> 
> Happy Holidays! <3 I'm enjoying my Yule. Got any fav recipes?


	2. Chapter 2

It'd been a long day.

Picking up the bottle of whiskey next to the sagging bed, Garrus tilted it.

Yeah, no way that was enough to put him to sleep. He set it back down with a clunk and turned, absently kicking a gutted magazine out of his way. It rolled into a corner, to be dealt with later.

Grabbing his rifle off the table in the main room and slinging it over his back, he navigated his way back out of the cramped apartment, door sliding open at his approach. As he stepped out into the narrow alley, his omni-tool pinged. He brought up the call. Not terribly pleased by the timing, he still answered because he'd promised he always would.

It was the only promise he made any more.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“You haven't called me in _weeks_ ,” the voice from the other end said irritably. He could hear some noise in the background. Some sort of barking, a drone of a ground vehicle. Unfamiliar noises.

He scanned the alley before moving, the chaos of the market on the other side luring him out. There'd be something to drink, though it was hard to say it'd be palatable. At least he probably wouldn't get poisoned.

Again.

“Been busy, I lost track of time again. You know you can always call me. Where are you? Isn't it past your bed time over there?”

“Oh shut up. At the park, I climbed out of my window,” Emi said with a sigh, normally sharp voice taking on a slow, quiet cadence. “This place sucks, Garrus. I want to go home.”

“I know, but there's nothing we can do about it, legally. You're only eleven, and unless you're a secret salarian, that means you're still a kid. They decided that's the best place for you.”

He headed up to the nearest food stall that sold dextro, the one-armed former mercenary who ran the place glancing up from his vid at Garrus' approach.

“Yeah, whatever,” she said, sounding awfully bitter. And sarcastic. That'd been happening a lot more lately. Talking to Joker too much, probably.

“I know you'd rather be in a big city, or-” He scanned his omni-tool at the one-armed turian's gesture, a bottle thumped unceremoniously onto the counter. It was followed by a pouch of nutrient paste, which was as close to concern as anyone got with him these days. Garrus paid, and grabbed the bottle, and after a moment's annoyance, the pouch as well. They shared a nod.

He knew Vetarius wouldn't poison him on purpose- Garrus had run off the Batarians who kept trying to take over this corner of the Vextrus Markets. The merchants here returned the favor by letting him know if anyone came close to finding where he holed up. It'd be nice not to move again for a while.

There wasn't enough money to be made here to lure in any of the bigger gangs.

Emi growled. “Anywhere would be better! Everybody here's so damn white it's like drowning in mayonnaise.”

Puzzled, Garrus stared at his omni-tool for a moment before asking, “...whiter than you?” He paused for a second to down the pouch so he didn't have to drag it around. Disgusting. Squeezing it into his mouth tasted like sucking tires.

“Oh my god, Garrus! I'm not white, I'm _Asian._ Ugh, whatever. You know, on Citadel I didn't even know that was a thing. If these people saw a turian they'd _piss_ themselves.”

The mostly-empty pouch he would have tossed on the ground, but there were too many humans camping the alleys around here, one of them might have grabbed it assuming it was levo and killed themselves. So he took it with him.

“Well, there's an idea,” he said with a bit of humor to try and cut through the whining. It wasn't that he minded listening, but it had been pretty incessant. He figured she was just adjusting to life planetside.

He thumbed the cap off the bottle with a flick that spun it off to clatter to the ground, lifting the booze for a brief smell. Yeah, no, that wasn't good. Might have had a nodding acquaintance with brandy at some point, though.

“That would be hilarious,” the humor in her voice died, and she sighed. “ _Fuck_.”

The swearing had been happening a lot more, too.

“Mini, I need you to go home. I don't want you getting in trouble,” he said. To drive the point home, he said, “you don't want your omni-tool getting confiscated again.”

“No,” she sighed heavily. A few seconds past, and she murmured sadly, “I wish mom was here, Garrus.”

It came up less often these days, but it still hurt like hell. He wasn't sure when it was going to stop, but he would have appreciated if the pain would start to fade. Maybe the memories could take the guilt with them when he finally drowned them out.

_I should have been..._

“I know.”

He paused at the door to his apartment, hearing chaos further down the alley. Following the shouting, he frowned to himself. It could just be a fight. It probably wasn't, but...

Garrus threw the pouch in through the door that slid open and surged past it, heading deeper into the maze. Hard to navigate this part of the alleys, there were a few human junkies that had set up a camp back here. He tried not to bother them too much, and they didn't cause him any trouble.

“I need to go. Work.”

“Oh my god, you're always working.”

“Always more bad guys, Mini. Go back to the house. Toe the line or you'll never get out of there, that's an order.” He paused at a turn in the alley, glancing down at the uncapped bottle. Tossing back a swig to wash the paste out of his mouth, he silently offered it down to the junkie at the corner.

Gratefully, the guy snatched it out of his hand.

There went his dinner.

“Yes, sir,” Emi said reluctantly.

“I'm out,” he said, as always careful not to say his name. The call ended as he forced his way through the alley, slinging the rifle off his back. He heard someone cry out in pain, and a deep rumbling voice.

“...damage the merchandise.”

“It's all damaged goods, who cares if there's a few more bruises?”

He'd known the homeless encampment was at risk, too vulnerable, but he'd hoped his being nearby would mean he'd catch any opportunistic slavers coming out this way. It wasn't that Garrus was happy to be right- he was just happy he found out in time. Hopefully.

In the narrow alley it was easy enough to scale a wall, climbing up to the third story and then pushing himself off the wall onto the roof opposite. He landed, heavily. Other species made it look so damn easy.

Unslinging his rifle, he moved to the corner to overlook the intersection in the alleys, peering through the scope.

Two batarians and a human mercenaries had trampled the encampment, makeshift homes torn apart. Three gaunt men were already trussed up to be transported, but he was hoping he might have some indication of where they were going- who these mercenaries worked for. Were they just hired by pirates, or did they have a ship. Were they gang affiliated?

Normally he'd shoot first and ask questions later, but that was getting him nowhere.

While he watched and listened to them bicker, the subject of their conversation watched them blankly, thin wrist gripped by the human merc. A woman. Like the others, she showed all the signs of a red sand addiction, but she was obviously currently in the throes of the drugs. Mouth slightly open, eyes unfocused and flitting, no fear on her face despite the situation.

“What do you care? We already dosed her, it's a waste of product,” the human merc said.

Back where?

A little more info would have been nice.

“I care about sloppy seconds.”

“Would you two just get on with it? We've got a quota,” the third merc said irritably. “It's got two ends, just pick one and fuck.”

_Well, never mind then._

Hand in his pants, the human merc went down with a hole in his forehead. Garrus was already lining up the second shot before they realized what was happening, and then the third before a weapon had been drawn. One, two, three, they went down.

Three shots, three kills.

The woman fell as she was released, dazed. At least she was drugged up, so she didn't start screaming. He'd done his best to aim the shot, but she'd still gotten splattered, arm dripping with bright red blood and fragments of what'd been the back of the merc's skull. It was a small wound, so at least she wasn't covered in brains.

Not that she'd care.

It was a long jump, so he took a hang and drop instead of leaping down. He landed heavily, something cracking underfoot. Stepping forward, swinging his rifle up, he checked all three exits out of the alley before lowering his guard. No other mercs.

Damn it.

The rifle went to his back again and he brought out an omni-blade, cutting the humans free. At least two of them were alert and probably not high, though the second one he freed immediately bolted, heading down the alley. The third was out, but checking his pulse proved he'd just been knocked unconscious. The bruise blooming on his temple made it pretty clear what had happened.

Garrus locked eyes with the one that hadn't run- too young to be out here. “Kid. Strip these mercs, get the bodies out of here, and take their gear to Padraig at Blue Diamond Pawn, do you know it?”

The kid nodded rapidly. “Yes, sir.”

“Don't let anyone see what you're carrying, or they'll take it off you. Padraig will give you a fair price. What's your name?”

“Shane.”

“Shane, I don't know what kind of person you are, but if you're a halfway decent one you'd make sure everyone here at least gets a meal.”

“Yeah,” Shane said, eyes shifting aside. “Thanks for helping- Akane? Akane, are you okay?!”

Garrus rose and turned his head just in time to watch the woman's eyes roll up as she collapsed backwards. She hit the ground, shaking, and he cursed under his breath, surging to his feet and grabbing her by the arm. She was so small, so thin that he had her slung over his shoulder in seconds, feeling her convulse even through his armor.

“Akane!”

“Overdose. I'll get her to a clinic. Take care of these bodies, Shane!”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Damn it.

Surging through the alley, clutching the fragile woman against his shoulder, he tried to calculate time. She was in a bad state- he probably had fifteen minutes, tops. The clinic he usually used was far away from where he lived, it would be stupid to get patched up close to home, but he knew there was one around here somewhere. Emerging back into the market, he pushed his way through, people scattering out of his way.

Vetarius was still watching his asari drama, barely glancing up as Garrus surged by.

“Clinic!”

“Three blocks east, two north,” Vetarius replied in a faint rasp, eyes fixed on the holo.

“Thanks!”

Navigating rapidly, trusting the directions, he lifted his free hand and checked the woman's pulse. He could feel her choking now, probably on her own tongue- hopefully not on vomit. He really didn't want to end up with vomit all over his back. Not much he could do about it right now but keep going. Her heartrate was fluctuating wildly, but it was still there.

A few blocks out and things got a bit nicer, but not nice enough for how damn clean the clinic looked when he came to it. Exterior, not so much, but the interior was pristine, bright white lights spilling out of windows that were only grimy on the outside. An actual doctor, then, maybe.

The doors opened at his approach, a dark-haired human man glancing up at him.

“Sorry, we're-” He stopped short as he saw the woman slung over Garrus' shoulder.

“Overdose,” he replied simply.

Turning around, the doctor crossed the floor and grabbed a wheeled bed, pulling it out of a cluster of them. Garrus followed and slung her down onto it, more careful this time. She'd stopped convulsing, but her eyes were still rolled up so far they were almost all white. Creepy.

“How long, and what did she take?”

“I was about seven blocks away, I grabbed her and ran when she fell over,” Garrus said, “so, a few minutes. And I don't know. She's a red sand addict, though.”

“Don't know?”

The question came from behind him, and he spun to face the voice. A scarred salarian was standing behind him- Garrus hadn't even heard him approach. And his senses were _always_ alert around here. 

“It wasn't me,” Garrus said, trying not to sound irritated. “Some slavers tried clear out a homeless encampment, I caught them in the act.”

The salarian's eyes shifted to the gun over Garrus' shoulder, and then to the woman. Garrus followed his gaze, and saw he was examining the fresh blood on her skin. “Tried?”

“Failed,” Garrus said, flat and cold.

“Fortunate,” the salarian said, stepping around Garrus and joining the other doctor. “Human. Malnourished. Signs of red sand addiction. Doctor Abrams?”

“All symptoms indicate a red sand overdose, Doctor Solus. Administering suloxidone.”

“Prepare for cardiac arrest.”

_Cardiac arrest._

Stepping back, he watched in silence as they injected the frail, dark-haired woman. Her face was so pale. The instant the vitals monitor came to life, he was staring at it, listening to the wildly fluctuating rhythm of her heart, until it abruptly-

Stopped.

He stared down at her white face as he carried her in her arms, chest struggling with every faint, wheezing breath-

_Garrus, stop it._

His eyes were staring at Akane, but he didn't see her. It wasn't her.

_It's not her._

“Faith is dead,” he mumbled to himself.

“What?” Doctor Abrams asked distractedly.

“Nothing,” he said, gaze shifting aside. He stared at the floor instead, listening to the vitals monitor. The whine of the electronic stimulator was an unfortunately familiar noise. It took three tries to restart her heart, and he tried not to flinch at each attempt.

When she finally stabilized, he managed to look at her again. No, it wasn't Faith. She was too thin, black hair, smaller, more delicate features. No freckles. It wasn't Faith.

She was alive.

“What are her chances?”

“Prognosis acceptable,” the salarian doctor said, turning another penetrating gaze on him. Sizing him up. “Arrived just in time.” His voice was clipped, even more so than most salarians he'd met. “An acquaintance?”

Garrus shook his head. “Don't know her. Some kid called her Akane. I'll pay, though.”

“Unnecessary,” Solus dismissed, turning away. “Simple procedure.”

“Thank you, Doctor Solus. I'd better go make sure the kid cleaned up the mess.”

“Omega is a dirty place. Lots to clean. Not many who mind the dirt.”

“Nice to find someone else who does,” Garrus said, turning on a heel and heading out.

“Indeed,” Doctor Solus said, just before the doors slid open.

He'd have to keep an eye on this place. Would hate for anyone to try something- the doctor seemed like a decent person. Garrus absently marked it on his mental map of the area, and headed back to the markets.

He had to buy another bottle now.

“Hold still.”

Garrus grunted at the order, biting down harder on the strap between his teeth. He'd bitten his tongue too badly last time to risk it again. The forceps withdrew from his skin again, and he growled out under his breath as he felt the piece of shrapnel finally pulled free of the damaged muscle. Damn it, that hurt.

The piece of metal clinked into a tray with the others.

“Doctor Abrams?”

“It looks like one last piece, approximately ten millimeters lower, lodged just at the top of the lower trapezius, under the edge of the carapace- Archangel, how the hell did you get shrapnel lodged _under_ a plate?”

Silently he lifted his middle finger over his shoulder at Daniel Abrams, who chuckled faintly to himself.

“Hold _still_ or lose arm function,” Mordin repeated, exasperated.

He dropped his hand and did as ordered, gripping his knees. This one was worse. A lot worse. Talons digging into his knees, trying to keep his shoulders from flexing as the forceps probed in the injury, he controlled his breathing tightly.

When it finally came free he could feel it even before Mordin withdrew it, the ache turning sharp as it found a new spot to dig into. But then it was carefully being maneuvered free, slowly eased out of the scalpel cut between his shoulder plates. And then finally came the medi-gel, numbing the injury at last. He exhaled a sigh, slowly, and reached up to remove the strap from between his teeth.

Daniel took over, finishing the cleaning and sealing of the wound.

“It was a modified Elkoss proximity grenade rigged into a shrapnel bomb,” Garrus told Mordin, voice cracking a bit. Damn he was tired. “The second one didn't go off, so I assume it's pretty makeshift, but the one that did was bad enough.”

“Crude but effective,” Mordin said, examining the shrapnel pieces in the tray. “Scar on your shoulder plate.”

“Damn it, really?” He reached over his shoulder, carefully examining the slight gouge in his plate. It didn't feel like it went all the way through, but it was big. “That's not gonna heal great. Ah well. At least it's not my pretty face.”

Daniel snorted.

“Cosmetic damage. Could have been much worse. Can see that you have failed again to listen to my recommendation,” Mordin said, giving Garrus a sidelong look.

“Maybe I did,” Garrus replied, faintly defensive.

“Archangel, we both know you didn't,” Daniel said, moving to wash his hands in the sanitization sink. “You need to stop working alone.”

“I like the new clinic. Glad to see you've upgraded your defenses,” Garrus said rather than engage it, nodding his head towards a nearby mech.

“Evasion noted- confirms suspicions of solo activity. The clinic. Yes, more space, less Eclipse here. More Talon, but payments have been rendered and accepted. Better run thugs at least.”

One of the necessary evils of Omega.

Garrus sighed, pushing himself up gingerly from the table to put his armor back on. He could feel the strain on his shoulder as he moved and flexed, but it didn't hurt any more. “Well, there's a few less Eclipse overall today. Unfortunately, they got to my guy first.”

“You finally found him?” Daniel asked, concerned. “Does that mean-”

It'd been a long few months bouncing from person to person trying to follow the leads he'd pulled off of Farris Egan's omni-tool after he died. Egan had been extremely low in the pecking order, but following the leads had done more than take him to who was cutting red sand with potentially lethal additives and sending it off to Citadel. It'd exposed the command structure of the Blue Suns, and given him a sudden and unexpected in to the Eclipse.

“Managed to destroy about ten million credits' worth of tainted red sand today. Finally found where they were cutting it to stretch out the shipments. It's all gone. There's not going to be any recovering that facility,” Garrus said. As much as he didn't want to be putting anyone else in danger, he had to admit having someone to talk to it about helped. Not that he'd ever tell the doctors about an op in advance- that was just stupid.

“That's what you came here for, isn't it?” Daniel asked, cautiously.

“I- it was,” Garrus admitted. There wasn't any going back now, though. Not now that he was down in the guts of this place, knew what went on in the alleys. “I think I'll be sticking around, though.”

“Suggest reevaluation of current tactics. Current methods an excellent way to get killed,” Mordin said from across the room.

“Thanks for patching me up,” he replied, leaving the clinic behind. No point arguing with Mordin, because he was probably right. Still, teaming up just seemed like a really good way to get _other_ people killed to Garrus.

Navigating the tunnel that led back to the streets, he took some time to examine the area again. A lot less open and crowded than the previous location. Definitely safer, especially with the added security. Not that he was going to offer himself as backup, didn't want to imply Mordin didn't have it in hand. Still, if they called, he'd be there.

Garrus had made it about halfway home, picking a new route than yesterday when his omni-tool demanded his attention. Lifting it, he sighed. Great.

“What?”

“Aria wants to see you,” Grizz said bluntly.

“And here I thought I wasn't her type,” Garrus replied sarcastically.

“Don't make her wait.”

The call ended, and Garrus shook his head, resigned. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with Aria T'Loak. He'd dealt with her the first time by chance when the Blood Pack merc he'd been stalking to look for information had crossed one of her people. He hadn't precisely _meant_ to save her person's life, but what was he supposed to do?

Five on one was unfair no matter who the one was.

He'd just given the guy a fighting chance, that was all. Unfortunately, saving his life had counted as 'helping Aria T'Loak', which wasn't something he particularly wanted to do. The only reason she was even remotely better than the mercs was because she believed at least in order and jus- well, not justice.

Revenge, maybe.

Still, he didn't want to be in _any_ of her books, let alone her good ones.

Too late to go back, though. She wanted something, and ignoring her would just piss her off. He couldn't imagine she'd had any stake in his job today, he knew she didn't have any stake in any of the merc gangs in Omega, and no problem with them as long as they toed the line.

When he reached the Afterlife at last, he skipped the line and went right for the door, pausing when the bouncer next to the door extended an arm and stepped in to block his path. Stifling a sigh, Garrus met the Batarian's eyes.

“Aria called for me. I don't have time to play with you, I haven't had my dinner yet and I'm cranky. Do you mind?”

The Batarian lifted his other hand to his ear, still staring down Garrus as he listened to whatever he was being told. Finally he dropped his arm and stepped back, gesturing impatiently. Garrus spun as he headed through the doors, walking backwards as he drawled sarcastically, “thank you so much for the warm welcome. Customer service skills...on point, as the humans say.”

The Batarian glared at him as the doors closed.

Garrus threw up his hands and turned back around, stepping aside before he ran into a drunken patron in the midst of being dragged out by his exasperated boyfriend. Glancing past them, he scanned the bar as he went by, glancing across the dancers. Huh. Las wasn't in her usual spot. He didn't recognize the dancer, but she was definitely greener than Lasina, with different markings. He wondered if she'd finally left Omega, or if she'd lost her position.

He knew the tips in her usual were the best in the bar- high competition for the spot, though.

Making his way through without too much trouble, he headed for Aria's perch. In the eternal night of Omega, it didn't matter what time it was- the club was always busy and right now was no exception. People got out of his way without too much trouble, though. Being heavily armed would do that.

At the base of the stairs was Grizz, waiting for him with his arms crossed.

Garrus approached the other turian, raising his voice. “Yeah, thanks. I'll take a whiskey, neat, and-”

“Just go up,” Grizz interrupted him with an irritated snort.

“But I haven't finished my order,” Garrus said, but didn't stop. There was a fine line between being an ass and having his handed to him, and he'd gotten pretty good at riding that line. He liked to think Faith would be proud of him.

In fact, some days it was the only thing getting him through this.

Shaking off the suddenly morose thought, Garrus mounted the stairs and lifted both hands over his shoulders, turning to take in the scene. “I'm unarmed.”

“You're extremely armed,” Aria countered from where she lounged on the long, curving couch, both arms thrown behind it casually. “Which is a privilege most people don't get in front of me.”

The ruler of Omega had a relaxed, but arrogant look on her face, head tilted to the side. The arrogance just seemed to be her default state. Garrus kept himself relaxed, dropping his hands once he was sure neither of the bodyguards up here weren't going to come for him.

“Ah, I prefer to kill people from a distance anyways.”

“I'm aware. That's actually why you're here,” Aria said. She didn't invite him to sit, so he stayed standing. No reason to let down his guard.

But what she was saying...

“I'm not an assassin,” he said, harsher than he'd meant to. He saw the Batarian to the left behind him draw himself up.

“Oh no, you misunderstand,” Aria said with a small smile. “I'm not asking you to kill someone. I'm giving you a present. So you can kill someone- someone you want to kill.”

He wouldn't say he wanted to kill _anyone_ , but... “Aria, it's not even my birthday.”

“I owe you, and I don't like owing. _Maybe_ this person needs replacing because they've made some very bad choices lately, but only enough to lose any hope of my protection. I don't get involved with this sort of thing. I'm not involved. I'm just passing you some information.”

Leaning forward, she reached down and picked up a datapad, offering it out to him. Cautiously he approached, extending a hand to take it. He could just take the information. He didn't need to do anything with it.

He turned on the datapad, and found a map. A single point was marked on it. He slid a finger past it, going through pictures. The outside of a residence. Marked security routes, security systems, elevators, schematics...this was a lot of information. It wasn't just an address, it was everything someone would need to break in and kill someone.

“Who?”

“Tarak,” Aria said simply, with a hint of a smile.

Eyes narrowing, he glanced back up at her. Tarak. Leader of the Omega Blue Suns. He'd only managed to get scope on him twice, and both times he couldn't risk taking a shot. Garrus had just been observing, but the temptation...

Taking out Tarak would completely cripple their operations.

“Aria, you shouldn't have,” he drawled slowly.

“And he shouldn't've either, Archangel,” Aria said, and then lifted a hand and waved it. “Go away, your do-gooding makes me sick.”

“Here I thought I we were going to be best friends,” Garrus said, already on his way out- no need to push it. He heard her scoff behind him as he headed back down the stairs. This was a lot to think about. As he transferred the data to his omni-tool so he could wipe the datapad and discard it, he navigated the bar by rote, not really paying attention.

Credits were decent right now despite his donations to Mordin and taking care of the old neighborhood, but he probably shouldn't waste them on overpriced drinks.

Still, it'd been a long time since he'd had a real Earth whiskey.

Maybe another time. This was a lot to think over right now. Taking down Tarak...it was a big job. Bigger than him. This wasn't a 'find a spot and fire' sort of mission, it'd require tactics, time, planning, and the one thing he'd been stringently avoiding.

Backup.

Heading down the ramp, he was wiping the datapad clean when he heard the distinct sounds of combat. Making sure the pad was clear, he dropped it with a clatter and unslung his shotgun, picking up his pace. Coming around a corner, he found a turian on the ground, wiping blood from his mouth as a krogan reached for him. A fight, one on one, which he would have left if not for one thing.

The krogan was wearing Blood Pack colors, and he was drawing a gun.

The shotgun blast stalled that motion, and the krogan staggered to the side, burns pocking his armor. Turning on Garrus, he finished drawing his gun. The first shot hit his shields, but it was too late. Another direct shot to the face and the krogan went down, body thudding heavily as the blood started flowing from his mangled visage.

Garrus took a breath.

“More are coming!” the man on the ground snapped, rapidly struggling to his feet. He accepted the shotgun that Garrus tossed to him, catching it deftly. Not that he was surprised. Of course a turian knew what to do with a shotgun.

Garrus drew his rifle, and they braced themselves for the incoming Blood Pack. Luckily as they surged into the corridor there were only four. Not much of a fight. But...

A good fight.

He hadn't really fought with anyone since he'd left Citadel, and it felt surprisingly good. But still, he wasn't used to following orders any more- so he gave them. To his shock, the few he snapped out in the brief, but bloody firefight were followed flawlessly. Was this what it felt like?

Trust born out of necessity, but someone trusting him nevertheless.

It felt...good.

And it worked. Mere minutes later and the whole squad was out. He didn't have to worry about the carnage- Aria's people would handle it. He did grab the krogan's omni-tool to hack into his bank account to drain it, though, because of the principle. As he caught his breath and watched his tool hack through the protections, he saw motion out of the corner of his eye.

“You're good with that,” Garrus said, indicating his shotgun with a lift of his chin.

“My old CO would be pretty damn angry if I wasn't,” the other guy said. “I'm Sidonis. Thanks for that, I figured I was done for when he disarmed me.”

“What did you do to piss off the Blood Pack?”

“Trashed a nice little ruvak shop I liked because they were behind on payments. I returned the favor,” Sidonis said with a shrug. “I didn't expect them to finger me.”

Garrus finished what he was doing and left his omni-tool working on draining the account. He glanced up, nodding and grabbing his shotgun as it was offered back to him. “Good for you. They need more people pissing them off.”

“Yeah. And you are?”

Garrus smiled faintly, glancing back down at his omni-tool. “Nobody.”

“Yeah, right. You're Archangel, aren't you? I've heard things...”

“I'm sure only the best sorts of things. If you'll excuse me, there's a bottle of something terrible out there with my name on it.” Pushing off the wall, he was ready to continue on his way when Sidonis grabbed his arm. Stilling, fighting the urge to reach for his gun, he turned his head and met the guy's eyes. “You really don't want to do that. I'm jumpy.”

“I want to help you,” Sidonis said, but released his arm, lifting his hands. “I'm tired of these bastards stepping all over everybody in their way. Someone has to deal with them.”

Garrus frowned, and glanced down at his omni-tool again.

Tarak.

He couldn't take him down alone.

“There may be a job...”


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone was somehow in good spirits despite their failure.

Garrus was trying not to be bitter- yeah, they'd managed a pretty amazing blow against Tarak and Blue Suns, but the bastard wasn't dead. Still, he should be grateful that everyone had been extracted safely. And he was- on the surface.

But internally, he couldn't stop thinking about if he'd been a _little_ bit faster, if he'd gotten the shot off in that split second he'd seen the bastard's face in the window. Yes, he was supposed to identify before the shot, and if he'd made it he wouldn't have, but...no, no, he couldn't think like that. Confirming the target was part of the job. If he stopped doing that...

He wouldn't be any better than them.

“You've been pouring that drink for the last ten minutes,” Las said from behind him. When he glanced over his shoulder, the blue-skinned asari grinned broadly, crossing her arms and leaning against the archway. “Hey. What's going on in that head?”

“Replaying the battlefield to optimize future tactics,” he said dryly, and hid a smile at her exaggerated sigh and eye roll. “I fucked up.”

“ _We_...did amazing. Are you kidding? Tarak's pissing his pants right now,” Las laughed, gold eyes crinkling at the corners. “You're too hard on yourself. Come on, this is bad for morale.”

“That's why I'm doing it in here,” he pointed out, lifting his glass from the counter. “You working tonight?”

“I...was, but I gave up my spot on stage tonight,” Las admitted, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “We're bonding. It's fun! I haven't been a merc in _years_ , this is nostalgic!”

Yeah, right.

“You're so obvious. How do you even know Riva's interested?” Garrus asked, turning back to the counter.

“Archangel. _Every_ girl is interested. Have you met me?” Las asked.

There was something almost painfully familiar in the cocky lilt to her voice that made him smile, the nostalgic pain a little gentler this time. He tilted his head and glanced back at Las. The smile on her lips faded, and her eyes averted from him.

“I hate it when you look at me like that.”

“Sorry. Sometimes you remind me a lot of someone I used to know,” he admitted quietly.

“I'm probably over a century older than you, so I feel qualified saying you need to stop acting so _old_.”

“You're practically a baby, for an asari.” His omni-tool chimed, rescuing him from the conversation, and he glanced down. “I have to take this.”

“Uh huh,” Las said, pushing off the archway and turning around to saunter off. “Come be social before people think you're disappointed in them.”

He brought up the call, letting the comment go by him. He knew she was right. Turning his back to the archway, he lowered his voice. “Hey, Mini. How'd the exam go?”

There was a sniffle, instantly setting all his senses alert. Emi was crying. “I didn't make it,” she admitted quietly. “I'm sorry. I'm doing my best...”

All of the bravado, the spikes were gone. She sounded so broken-hearted that it killed him. She'd been pushing herself too hard. He'd thought it more than once, but hearing how upset she was over a single test, it came back to mind. She was pushing herself too hard.

More and more, she reminded him of someone...

“Hey. You're years behind everyone else. I know you're doing your best. Smarts doesn't mean you don't need time, Mini. I don't know why you're trying to skip years, anyways...”

“I'm not skipping, I'm trying to catch up,” she said, sad and frustrated. “Garrus, it's _embarrassing_ being older than everyone else. I hate it. I give up.”

She didn't mean it, but that didn't mean he should assume her words meant nothing.

“Okay. If we're gonna run away and be pirates we need a ship, and a crew. Who are we gonna rob, Captain?” he asked, crouching down and resting his arms on his legs.

She inhaled in stutters, a broken sniffle that scaled up until she sighed, slowly. “Everybody.”

“Tall order, Captain.”

“I hate it here,” she said. It came up at least once a call, and it was starting to give him an uneasy feeling. It always came as a quiet confession, a confidence. He'd assumed at first it was Earth, and then he'd assumed it was school, and now he was starting to worry it was her new family. She never talked about them.

He should have been asking.

“Do you-”

“Where the hell are you?”

The figure that burst through the archway pulled him away from his call. Sidonis had a bottle in one hand, slumping against the wall as he lifted it in salute. Garrus tilted his head, and then turned back to his call.

“Mini, I need to go. You're doing amazing- stop pushing so hard. Give it time. Do the courses with everyone else, and before you know it, you'll be all caught up.”

“I will if you finally fight me,” she huffed.

“Uh, I haven't logged in for over a year, I don't know-”

“Oh my god, Garrus. Not MegaMega Bun-Bun,” she said sharply, reassuring him with the renewed vitality of it.

He smiled to himself. “Okay, well, I'm not sure...”

“It's MegaMega Bun-Bun Platinum. Don't you dare buy Thulium, I already have the Rexys-Bun symbiote variant, you have to get Iridium so I can get the cross-species infection to mutate and breed the Iridium only symbiotic parasites to fill out my Bun-pedia so I can consume the Legendary Blood Harbinger Bun and learn necrobunmancy.”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” he agreed numbly, having absolutely no idea what she was talking about. “I'll buy it tonight, Mini.”

“Okay,” she sighed in his ear, with one last little sniffle. “Don't forget your promise. Shepard out.”

It made him wince, like it did every time, but it was less of a nail being hammered in these days and more of a needle. Less pain, but sharper and more pointed. He got it, he still got it, she was doing what she could to cling to it all but- damn it, even in the wrong voice the words hurt.

Sometimes he thought he still talked to her to torture himself.

But she needed him.

“I knew it.”

The voice behind him shocked him out of the privacy of the call. Shit. He'd entirely forgotten they weren't alone.

As Garrus surged to his feet, Sidonis was disappearing into the living room, bottle in hand. “Confirmation!”

As he turned to follow, confused, Garrus tossed a heavy swig of the drink back. Turian brandy- at least it was palatable. As he passed through the archway, there were eight pairs of eyes on him. Las was smirking, elbow on Riva's shoulder.

“What did I do?” he finally asked, lifting his glass.

“You've got a kid?” Las said, lips curling up into a slow smirk.

Mind blank, he tried to formulate a response that wasn't a harsh denial or something that would depress everyone in the room. “Uh, no,” he finally managed, lifting his drink again for a sip.

“Oh come on,” Sidonis scoffed from across the room, slinging down onto the couch that hugged the corners of the room. Denir gave him a sidelong look, the salarian pulling a little further away.

“I don't,” Garrus said brusquely, moving for the door. There wasn't atmo here, no real 'outside', but he couldn't be in this room right now.

Emerging out of the apartment onto the landing fifteen stories up, he surged forward, free hand grabbing the railing. The door slid closed behind him, cutting it all off. He shouldn't have done that. He should have made a joke, brushed it off, said something casual like Faith would have done.

Instead he was standing here alone watching Omega shift below at ground level, lights flickering, hand clutching a glass of shitty turian brandy.

_Fuck._

He stared across at the grid of lights and buildings, trying to control his breathing. It was their biggest mission- the first involving all ten of them. He should be in there, building them up, but...

The door slid open behind him.

“Hey.”

“Las,” he sighed, clutching both hands around the glass.

“Nobody wanted to piss you off, Archangel,” she said, reaching up for his shoulder. When he didn't move, she popped up on her toes and rested her chin on the back of her hand, digging in against him. “Hey, come on.” She shook him lightly.

“I'm not pissed,” he lied, avoiding her stare on the side of his face and taking another drink.

“They're just curious about you. You don't talk to anyone else- do you blame them for saying it's your kid?”

“Yes,” he said, and held his stance against her double-handed slap to his shoulder.

Las strode away, turning and throwing herself down on the lounge chair dragged out onto the shitty, narrow excuse for a balcony-landing. He stared at the side of her face, sipping at his brandy. She was more petulant than most asari he'd met.

“I don't want to ruin your night.”

“You are my night, Archangel. In a totally non-romantic way, because no offense- ew.”

“Thanks, Las,” he drawled sarcastically.

She smirked. “Hey...who is the kid? You know leaving people curious will just make them annoy you again.”

Promises, coming back to bite his ass. He'd promised to stay in touch, and he couldn't abandon Emi now. But it was noticeable, especially when he'd cut everyone off in his life. Maybe it was time for honest. Just...

Not honesty with names.

“The daughter of someone who died,” he said quietly.

Las stared at him, the smile fading from her lips. Her golden eyes turned serious, and finally pulled away. “Sorry. Is it-”

“Are you sorry?” he asked, turning back to survey the cityscape.

“A little. Is it the mysterious her?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Archangel,” Lasina said, shoving up to her feet again, restless as ever. She spun on her toes, and then planted an elbow on the railing. Too close. Tilting her head up toward him, she sighed. “I don't even have a real name to call you by, which is rude. Boss. Captain. Command-”

“Not that one,” he interrupted harshly.

“See? Another clue,” she said, turning away. “Everyone knows there's a she. What happened? At least tell me enough that I can stop everyone else from getting in your face. You give us nothing, so every clue is louder than loud.”

“She's dead. What else is there?” he asked, staring down into the glass of brandy clutched in his hands.

Las was silent for a decent amount of time, and then she sighed. “Nothing, I guess. I'll tell everybody to lay off. Come in soon. We've gotta sort through all that info you stole, see if there's anything that'll help us with taking out that transport tomorrow.”

It was probably the only thing she could have said to convince him to come back in.

He stared down at the city below just a little longer, reminding himself why he was doing this. For them. All the people down there just trying to survive in a place that didn't want them to. A place that didn't care who they were, or why they were there- it just wanted them to suffer.

They could change that.

Little by little, person by person, they could change that.

The new base was much more defensible than before, and they could actually work without being forced shoulder to shoulder for lack of space.

It had been luck he'd stumbled across it, and even better luck that they could claim it. He'd spent the last three days obsessively going over the security, until even Riva- who had _been_ a security specialist- was starting to call him paranoid. Garrus didn't care.

His paranoia had saved each of their asses at least once.

“I say we just get some mechs and call it a day,” Riva said, subvocalizations buzzing with amusement. When he glanced up, though, her face was sober. Nothing for the human to notice.

Amir was the last member of the crew- they hadn't brought anyone new in for months. He'd been a cop on some Alliance colony. Made Garrus feel a bit more at home, another cop in the mix. Their work had involved a lot of investigation lately.

“Mechs can be hacked,” Garrus dismissed. “I can hack mechs.”

“Not everyone is you,” Amir said, sitting heavily on the edge of the table, staring at the display spread out across it. “Still no info for that transport?”

“It seems like they're avoiding docking legally. Must have issues with Aria,” Garrus said, frustrated. “This is the biggest Eclipse shipment in months. We need to disrupt it.”

“Illegal docking means Talon. Good luck, they're tighter than tight lately with how much trouble the other gangs are having,” Riva said with a grin, flashing her teeth.

“Good. Means they'll toe the line.”

“Can't you talk to Aria?” Amir asked, lifting both hands when Garrus shot him a look. “Or not!”

“Not,” Garrus said succinctly.

“Sidonis reporting in. Sabotage of the Black Lotus went slick. I owe Den a bottle and an apology and am being forced to report both over comms.”

Garrus lifted a hand to his ear. “I warned you he could rig that thing to explode. You should really know by now that Denir can blow up anything if you leave him alone with it for three seconds.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, we'll see if the Captain finally sees that a life of crime doesn't pay-” Sidonis cut off abruptly, and then snapped, “yeah, I told him! I said I would! Anyways, we're on our way back. How'd your end go?”

“The volus set us up. He's very sorry about it, as are about twenty dead Blood Pack that tried to ambush us- so exactly as I expected,” Garrus said, managing a smile himself when he caught Riva grinning broadly. “With the Black Lotus disabled his escape route's compromised, so I suppose he'll just have to change his mind about dealing with us. The outward push is going well.”

“It better be, you convinced us to keep going, after all.”

“Lots of people left to save,” Garrus said, leaning back and rolling his neck. “Get your asses back here. Don't forget Denir's bottle.”

“He's demanding the good stuff because he's a smug little shit, we're hitting that importer near the docks,” Sidonis said irritably. “Am I getting you something?”

Hell, it'd been a while. He'd been trying to stay more sober than not these days- couldn't drown in a bottle with so many people depending on him. A drink or two wouldn't hurt.

Bringing up his omni-tool, he idly hunted down the importer and looked up their list on the extranet. A decent selection of turian brandies, but he scanned past them without really looking. That was what he was looking for. Unfortunately not all of them he could try, but anything of high enough proof was generally safe.

He'd only gotten sick one or twice, anyways.

“Lock, Stock, and Barrel. Sixteen year, rye. I'll pay you back.”

“Ryncol!” Riva demanded from her sprawl on the couch.

“Riva is feeling suicidal again.”

“Ryncol, got it,” Sidonis said. “And some sort of bizarre obscure something that's probably going to taste like death.”

“Archangel out,” he said, hanging up the call.

Amir was giving him a curious look, which he met silently. After a few seconds, he grinned. “Worked with humans before or something?” he guessed.

“Or something,” Garrus agreed, lifting a shoulder. “Got a taste for it.”

“Humans, or their liquor?” Riva snarked.

“Funny, coming from _you_. Like I didn't catch you mooning over that singer on that vid you were watching. We're screwed if anyone ever tries a honeypot on us, you fall faster than a krogan dropped out of an aircar.” Garrus smirked.

“Shut up, don't you dare tell Las,” Riva hissed at him.

“Lasina gets jealous?” Amir asked, utterly disbelieving.

“No, she'll just never let it _go_. Drives me completely nuts.”

Garrus swiped the plan away from the center of the table. Staring at it waiting for something to change would just drive him insane- he'd find the transport even if he had to go by foot and hunt it down himself. The Blue Suns were quieter right now, the Blood Pack were screwing up- but it was the Eclipse he needed to cut down right now.

They weren't afraid enough.

He needed to _make_ them afraid.

“Need to do some brainstorming tonight. Amir, I don't suppose you keep a pack of cards, do you? Maybe Frankie does, if you don't.”

“Yeah, I've got a pack somewhere in the bottom of my shit,” Amir said, pushing to his feet, sounding pleased. “I never find anyone here that plays. What's your game?”

“Texas hold 'em. Should be easy enough to teach,” Garrus said, rolling his shoulders back.

“Nice. This is gonna be fun,” Amir said, pushing up and heading for the stairs. “I'll see if Frankie knows how to play.” He lifted his voice to shout. “Hey, Francis!”

“I know where you sleep, and I own many very sharp knives!” Frankie retorted from downstairs, her voice echoing.

“Damn it, that's also my type,” Riva grumbled. “So what, you're actually going to relax tonight? For once?”

“I did say it was a brainstorming session,” Garrus pointed out. Despite the few setbacks they'd been having lately, though, he was feeling more relaxed than he had been in a while. The new base helped, but more than that...

Time helped.

Everything felt a little bit less raw, and every success made him feel more confident that he wasn't just leading everyone to their doom. Faith had been right. When he'd brought in Sidonis and the first of the crew, he'd been terrified, but when they were planning, when they were fighting...it all just fell into place. When it was time to lead, he'd led.

Who knew he had it in him?

Well...she had.

A million plans, a million possibilities.

She hadn't known where to start at first, so Shepard had just been lying low, staying easygoing and affable. Tali rejecting her had been a blow, but probably for the best. The last thing she needed right now onboard was more people who knew her. More people who could tell she was wrong.

Joker and Karin had been dealt with.

But any more, and something might slip out...and she couldn't do that, not right now.

The first step was done, she was being thoroughly underestimated. It was time for the second step. Acquire information on the enemy- and acquire information on the possible ally.

Lifting a hand to her ear, Shepard stared at her mirror in the dark, glowing lines in her face highlighting the scars gouged into her skin. Well, not her skin. It wasn't like it was her body any more. It was the property of Cerberus now.

For now.

“Joker.”

“That's what they call me.”

“Head for Omega- but don't get too excited. We're just dropping something off and then continuing on to meet the Purgatory.”

“Sure. Doc's supplies are onboard. You know, even I don't eat this good. Lucky bastard.”

“Good, get us out of here, then.”

Dropping the call, she turned and left the dark bathroom, steeling herself. It was time to put the mask back on. Relaxing, she let the smile return, shoving her hands in the pockets of her hoodie as she sauntered out of her too-big cabin.

Heading into the elevator, she leaned on the wall, briefly closing her eyes. The only moments she was free. Fingers reached up and rubbed her temple. It'd become a habit- she'd just told Karin she was getting headaches.

It wasn't what she wanted to do, which was to claw into her fucking skull and confirm everything she feared- but it scratched the itch, so to speak.

When the doors slid open, she kicked off the wall. A glance across mess proved that no one was in at the moment. Sighing, Shepard brought up her omni-tool and switched from bridge comms to the armory.

“Hey.”

“Yes, ma'am?” Jacob asked.

“I need a spot, are you free? I'm heading down in about fifteen.”

“No problem, I'll meet you down there- provided you don't push yourself so hard this time. I don't want the doctor chasing me off the ship with a scalpel,” Jacob said, voice relaxing into better humor.

“Damn it, Jacob, I haven't been this weak since I was a kid. I'll push myself exactly as hard as I've gotta to get fit,” Shepard said, rolling her eyes. “I'm out. See you there.”

“See you there.”

Heading into the medi-bay, Shepard half slung herself through the door just as there was a chime from Karin Chakwas's omni-tool. The doctor glanced up from her preparations, offering a faint smile. It was returned, and it was real.  
Most of them weren't right now.

“Did you put an alarm on for me?” Shepard asked, slipping the rest of the way through. “Don't trust me to remember?”

“I know you,” Karin replied, voice playful until she repeated it, with a quiet gravity. “I know you better than _most_.”

A lot of secrets between them.

Shepard still didn't know what precisely Cerberus knew- hopefully today she finally would. Being able to know what information they'd acquired and hung onto would help her plan the way forward. Shepard was lucky as hell that Karin trusted her enough to just not mention anything that might be dangerous, and not bring up the changes in Shepard's personality. She just accepted them.

And Shepard took what she was given from the doc, without questioning it.

“I need to run another full allergy panel in six days. While we work on the exposure therapy, it's urgent that we track any changes in your reactions. As I said before. Are you going to exercise?”

Karin took her in with a glance. Shepard had ditched the shorts and cropped tops for long-sleeved shirts and leggings- the scars bothered her too much, as did what had happened to her after how long she'd been inactive.

Her ass was so _flat_ now.

Offensive.

“Yeah, I was going to start with weights, but-”

“I need you to do at least twenty minutes of regular cardio on the treadmill, with vital hookups. We need to see if you have any changes in breathing after reacting to exposure to the allergens.” Picking one of the vials from the case, Karin broke the seal on it and passed it over to Shepard.

It was the clear one, which was-

“The tree-nut cocktail?” The one they were both lying about. She'd seen it in Karin's eyes when it was first given to her. Something that could be said without words, which was good. Someone was always listening right now.

If Cerberus didn't know about her turian allergy, she wasn't going to let them find out now.

“Yes. Considering how mild your reaction was last time, I've upped the concentration very slightly. This is about one-one hundreth of actual exposure this time.”

“I can't believe they spent all that time fiddling with me, and they didn't fix this,” Shepard grumbled, tossing back the liquid that might as well have just been water with a little agar in it. Easy medicine to take, at least.

“Exposure therapy takes time, you know that,” Karin said. “Are you certain you want to keep taking the immunosuppressant injections? If you're going to be traveling to Omega, you're going to be exposed to a great deal of bacteria and possibly even viral infections that your body _cannot_ fight right now.”

“The longer we can keep my immune system down, the better chance I have of my body adjusting. Sorry, Karin. I'm determined. If I get sick, I get sick.” Her throat was starting to tingle, which was annoying, but expected. It shouldn't get too bad. “I've gotta talk to Miranda, but I'll be back for my dinnertime dosage. What is it tonight?”

“I'm still uncertain about your nightshade allergy, considering the severity, but we're going to try alliums and casein-free dairy tonight. You didn't have a reaction to either during the last testing phase.”

“Fancy words and all that, but Karin, what do I get to _eat_?” Shepard asked eagerly. That wasn't faked. She was finally going to get to eat food, for fuck's sake. Okay, under the supervision of her doctor, but-

“The Mess Sargent has assured me that he's capable of putting together onion rings and a burger that follows specifications.”

“A burger. Like, an actual cheeseburger? Like the actual food. That people who aren't me get to eat.”

“A turkey burger, but otherwise yes. I'm not ready to test your red meat allergy, considering the severity of it,” Karin said, flashing her a smile.

“Karin, I'm nominating you for sainthood. Okay, okay, I should go. Thanks.” Awkwardly clearing her prickly- but not tight- throat, she pivoted and returned to ticking things off her list. Miranda first, she thought. The harder, more annoying task first, and then she could handle the easier one.

Time to face the enemy.

Miranda was in her office, like she usually was. Shepard let the door slide open and then lounged in the doorway, leaning against the frame and crossing her arms. A deliberate stance. Angled for maximum impact against someone who was interested- which Miranda wasn't.

But that wasn't the point.

“Hey,” Shepard greeted after the pre-requisite idle once-over before Miranda looked her way. When Miranda met her eyes she smiled slowly. The dangerous smile. “Sorry we didn't have time to take some time off on the Citadel. I feel a little bad about it.”

“We've only just begun our mission, Shepard, it isn't exactly a good time for taking a break,” Miranda said crisply.

“Yeah, but I was wanting to ask you out for a drink.” Before Miranda could say something refuting the idea, Shepard continued talking over her. Plant the idea, move on. “Say, I was hoping I could ask you a favor. I wanted to get my hands on all the info Cerberus has on me. I want to look through it.”

“Whatever you have permission to view, EDI will be able to deliver to you.”

“Yeah, she doesn't have anything but my public records. But I'm sure you've got more than that, don't you?” Shepard tilted her head and smiled. One brief flicker downward, a quick peek at the boobs. Just long enough to register it having happened. “Come on, Miranda, you know I'm not going to underestimate you- I'd be stupid to. Do I need to ask the big guy, then? If you could call him up for me-”

“No, I have been instructed to give you what you require,” Miranda said, voice very lightly annoyed.

God, this was a complete waste of her charming skills- luckily, she'd picked a target she couldn't be attracted to _less_. It helped. Shepard was a good actor.

“Great, I need every scrap you've got. Every record, every file, vid, recording, all of it. I lost a lot of stuff I still haven't recovered. Especially the interviews, please.” A lie, but they were necessary these days- the trick was keeping track of the ones she'd made.

“Of course, but- may I ask the purpose of this?” Miranda asked.

She did that a lot. Questioned everything Shepard did, and Shepard let her. Hell, Shepard asked her opinion on stuff constantly. Usually in front of people. The more stupid and horny she could make herself look, the better.

“I like watching my old interviews and vids of me. Plus, looking over all my records and stuff. I'm sure that's why you've got them too, huh? Like looking at my pretty face?” Shepard smiled, despite the simmering disgust she felt every time she looked in the mirror. Never let it show in her face, though. She couldn't have them seeing it.

“It was necessary to research your history thoroughly to bring you _back to life_ , Shepard,” Miranda said, flat and unemotional.

“Right, we'll go with that.” Shepard winked at her and stepped back through the doorway, letting the door slide shut in her face.

Internally rolling her eyes, she stepped back and headed onward for her next destination- port observation. When she'd gotten the list of dossiers, a few of them had stood out, both for good and bad reasons. Her check-in today on Citadel had confirmed to her what Joker had told her over dinner one night when she asked where everyone was.

Everyone, you know. Not one particular person. Or turian.

Garrus was gone, no one knew where he was.

Except...

The door slid open, and an arm slung over the back of the couch at her approach, head following as Kasumi pulled herself up, peering out from under her hood.

“Shepard.”

“Hey, settled in?” She took a glance around at the various curios and items that had been set up. Nice, a little homier. It was good that she felt comfortable enough to actually make a mark.

“Yes. It's nice to actually be able to look out a window for once,” Kasumi said, even, quiet voice calm.

“I know you're good at moving independently, so I need to drop you off for a solo mission. On Omega. Familiar?”

“You could certainly say that,” Kasumi agreed, gliding to her feet as Shepard brought up the dossier on her omni-tool. “Archangel?”

“I need you to confirm their identity, locate where their crew operates out of, and, if possible, help them out without exposing yourself until I return. Checking in regularly, of course. I'm going to get Jack and the krogan and then meet back up with you. You can refuse this mission.”

“No, I can handle it just fine, Shepard,” Kasumi said, glancing down at her omni-tool and accepting the file she was sending over.

Shepard had gotten it from Joker.

She only glanced briefly at the picture as Kasumi brought it up, as much as she wanted to stare. It was the three of them- the kid, Joker, and Garrus, taken by Ash on the day Emi had snuck on the Normandy. Felt like only months ago.

But it was years now.

“This is who you think it may be?”

“May. I just want confirmation, but no matter who it is, I still want them at my back if they can be convinced. We'll be at Omega in twelve hours.”

Kasumi tilted her head slightly, painted lips curving up into a faint smile. “Consider it done, Shepard.”

“Great, thanks.”

“An old friend, Shepard?” The question was phrased delicately.

“Eh, I wouldn't go that far. Just an old squadmate. We fight well enough together,” Shepard said, rolling her shoulders in a shrug as she stepped back.

The biggest lie she'd told today.

There was no one she wanted more at her back right now, but doing so might expose the house she was building brick by brick to free herself from the fucking shackles she couldn't see but knew were there. This wasn't her body any more. Until she could free herself, there was no way she was going to let _anyone_ know how much anything- or any one meant to her.

It was time to start planning her escape.

Unfortunately for Cerberus, this was a war she'd been fighting all her life, and she was good at it.

The war against her own body.


	4. Chapter 4

The ground was rumbling, and the first scream came before her eyes opened into darkness. The last scream came when she was surrounded by bodies, acid melting through her flesh. Nothing but bodies.

_No._

Drowning in a suit on a desert planet, she forged towards the scarlet horizon, pack on her back heavy. There had to be an outcropping, a dune somewhere. But the only thing worse than being on this moon during the day...would be what would happen to her at night. Oh god. She was going to die here, wasn't she?

_No._

There wasn't any air, her lungs heaving as a voice in her head droned about a suit containment breach. Everything was getting cold, but her lungs were on fire. Straining, screaming without any sound, spinning in the void as she waited for someone. Anyone. It burned. Please. Please... _where are you?_

The snap from sleep to consciousness was violent and painful, heart rate spiking, adrenaline coursing through her. The triggers she'd installed in her brain took over, forcing her out of the panic spiral, making her acknowledge herself. Ground herself. 

_Take stock._

Two arms, two legs, everything functional.

_Not yours._

It didn't quite work- it hadn't since she'd woken in the Cerberus facility. She never felt quite grounded any more. Never completely banished the nightmares.

Shepard stared across the unfamiliar room, pistol in hand, heart thundering in her ears.

The shock of waking up faded away much slower than it used to, but finally she breathed out, turning the safety back on and shifting to tuck the pistol back under her pillow. It'd almost been an insult that it was already there waiting for her when she'd come on board. Like the Cerberus bastards were going 'ha ha, look at how much we know about you'. Assholes.

There hadn't been one when she'd woken up the first time- the first time after she'd died, in the Cerberus facility. She'd found a gun eventually, though. Found a lot of things. What was in her head right now, though, wasn't something she'd stolen from Cerberus, but two words she'd only seen flash by on a screen when they dashed past a station. A schematic, and a lot of smaller script that she hadn't made out, but two words that she barely had.

Optical transmitter.

Possibly one of the very few things that Shepard would consider worse than death.

They couldn't fucking fix Shepard's actual issues, no, but they had to go and put a fucking recording device in her head. Sure, she could presume it hadn't been implanted yet, or that they'd considered it and never done it, but that assumption could ruin everything. She was property of Cerberus right now. Might as well be stamped on her ass.

There was absolutely no reason for her to trust they weren't tracking everything she did.

Seeing everything she saw.

Oh _god._

The sheer violation of it was horrifying, enough to make her sick, even if it was only shunted off into some security VI somewhere to be broken down for red flags or noticeable behavior. Even if another pair of eyes never actually saw the feed, that wasn't the point. It was a fucking violation of her autonomy. Stripping her of her privacy.

Who knew what else they'd put in her?

She had to find out what was going on in this body.

Shepard rose from bed, forced herself not to shower in the dark- that would be too obvious. She had to look at what they'd done to her, had to pretend she didn't care about the fucking cracks in her skin. And so, yet again, she washed up while screaming on the inside. There was something viscerally disgusting about the idea of all that shit under her skin that made her start wanting to claw it out.

Keeping her face blank, movements brisk, she cleaned the shell of her body and got dressed, forcing her mind to think of anything else.

She didn't know Miranda well yet, just that she didn't like Shepard and was jealous. Daddy issues. Deep-seated insecurities probably born of being created to be 'perfect' and still being outshone by flawed, messed-up things like Shepard. Nobody had to claim their own perfection that much without being completely insecure.

She could not be trusted- but she could be used.

Jacob was different. Like Joker, he thought he was here trying to do the right thing. Still- different department, right. She'd never bought that whole 'one hand not knowing what the other did' bullshit. You saw things go wrong in your org, you confronted them and fixed them, not turned your back and said 'not me'.

But Jacob had been Alliance, and she could deal with that- she could reach down into his marrow and hit all the triggers she knew were there.

Karin had been following her lead unquestioningly. She'd been through a lot, seen a lot, and she knew Shepard. It helped. Joker had been dealt with with some discreet under-the-table morse code against his thigh. Just enough for him to know not to question her.

Who knew them fucking around out of boredom might have been useful.

She was safe, had laid groundwork- now time for a plan.

Pulling back her hair from her face, Shepard left the bathroom, twisting up the damp mess of half-curls. She'd pay for it later, putting up her hair wet, but wet hair sticking to her neck made her want to scratch, and scratching made her fingers feel the scars. No thanks.

Grabbing the yoga mat leaning against her desk, she tossed it on the floor and kicked it to unroll it. Her flexibility was still pretty damn good, but not perfect. Miranda had been vaguely offended when she mentioned the loss of muscle tone and conditioning. Apparently they'd done their best when she was 'asleep'.

Shepard knew her body too well, was the problem. Knew her limits.

And her limits had been reduced- she had to start pushing them.

Sliding down into slide splits on the mat, she felt the slow stretch of her thighs, in the curve of her hips. This was easy, but again, there were slight differences. Not as loose as it should have been. Once she was flat on the mat, she bent her upper body forward and stretched her arms out, holding the pose.

Yeah, there was a slight pull- muscles in need of stretching.

Closing her eyes, Shepard breathed out and let herself build the steps.

First off, continue to build a new personality consistent with whatever psych profile Cerberus had, but off enough that anyone who knew her intimately would know she was acting weird. Use said personality to keep Miranda off-guard and possibly even presuming the worst about her. Make her think Shepard was controllable.

Opening her eyes, not bothering to pull herself up, she reached for her omni-tool and brought up her extensive profile that had been in the data Miranda handed her, and scanned it as she stretched. Which ones to play up?

Probably, as much as she didn't like it, the whole womanizing thing, the manipulative charm, the Alliance history. She could do slick, skeevy army brat. Unfortunately it meant she'd have to keep hitting on Miranda, but hell, whatever it took for survival.

It'd fall in okay with what public interviews and info existed of her on the extranet.

Ugh, but this was taking too long.

_Patience, Faith, patience._

As much as she hated it, this was a long game, not a short one. She needed people she could trust, and right now that was Joker and Karin and no one else. As much as she desperately hoped that she could find a way to communicate to everyone else, make them understand, it might not be possible. She couldn't risk any of her friends in her current state.

This wasn't her body, it was a fucking leased corpse stuffed full of cybernetics. It wasn't her. Not while she was chained like this, not while they were staring through her eyes like she was some sort of fucking puppet-

_Stop thinking about it, Faith._

If she broke down, they'd see.

This was just another battle- a battle against her own body. Right now it was staked, claimed, snaked through with someone else's tech with her privacy violated. She would free herself, whatever it took. She'd taken her body away from people before who wanted to use it, and damn it, she'd do it again.

Fingers wandered to her hip, where her tattoo had been. Gone. Weirdly enough, that hurt more than anything.

Her claim over her own body had been revoked.

Fine then, she'd take it back.

But she couldn't do it alone.

Garrus had been feeling more willing to be dragged out lately- but not to most bars. At least the upper level of Afterlife was mostly safe for them. Aria might not like them, but she wouldn't let anyone jump them within her line of sight. Outside was a different story.

Tonight was good, though. He'd been afraid that the attempts to push outward would stretch them, but they were still making progress and not losing any ground. Even the old neighborhood was still safe. And they were making credits- not that he cared about them, but everyone else did.

That's why they were celebrating tonight.

That was why he was managing to be social and not lurking alone at a bar with a glass of liquor.

“Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?” Denir asked in his sharp, nasal voice, long fingers turning his drink in circles. He barely ever drank them, but he always bought them.

Garrus hadn't bothered asking- they all had their own weird habits.

“All the time.”

“You asked the wrong guy, Archangel is completely paranoid,” Frankie said, tattooed legs propped up on the table as she pared down her nails with a knife. He'd never met anyone who bothered with using a metal knife, let alone so damn many of them. She practically clanked when she walked.

Garrus chuckled. “It's only paranoia if everyone doesn't _want_ to kill you, Frank, you know that. Why do you do that?”

“Human nails are a bit more flimsy than talons, Archangel. Plus, you know.” She lifted a hand with her first two fingers up, the others folded down.

It took him a second, but finally- “Ah.” Garrus didn't bother to stifle his smile.

“Ah what?” Denir asked, peering between both of them suspiciously.

“It's _sexual_. I know how you hate that,” Frankie snarked maliciously, pointing her knife at Denir.

“Sorry that I actually have thoughts in my head and not just hormones and half a brain cell,” Denir said sarcastically. “Speaking of no brain and all genitals, is that Amir's third rejection, or the fourth?”

“Fourth,” Garrus said, lifting his glass and observing across the way. At least he didn't get slapped this time as the asari retreated. Progress. “You think an old cop would know how to pick his targets. He ugly for a human?”

“Nah, just has no game,” Frankie said, idly flicking her knife. It sank into the toe of her boot, and she leaned forward and yanked it out.

“Game.” Not an idiom he thought he knew. Those were rare these days.

“Yeah, you know. Strategy. Panache. Style. Knowing what to say, knowing how to attract attention, flirt, pull 'em in. Make the kill.” Frankie threw the knife end over end, puncturing her boot once more.

Denir sniffed, the salarian eyeing her critically. “You're going to cut off a toe one of these times.”

“You're going to blow yourself up one of these times,” Frankie countered.

Denir tilted his head to the side. “Eh, not wrong. You know, you don't make mating sound any more interesting when you phrase it like you're hunting an animal.”

Garrus abruptly coughed a laugh, one of those little memories abruptly surfacing. This one wasn't in the least bit painful, at least- once every thought of her would have been, but now...some of them were funny.

“What?” Denir asked him suspiciously.

“Someone once told me humans were endurance predators. I guess Amir is just proving it,” he drawled, and then laughed again to himself.

Frankie cackled, throwing her head back. Even Denir laughed, a little rattle of sound.

“You should give him some pointers,” Frankie said, nudging Garrus' arm with an elbow.

He couldn't help the disbelief in his voice. “Me?”

“Yeah, you kidding? The whole mysterious brooding stranger act?” Frankie said, picking up her drink and taking a long swig. “I've _seen_ it work, Archangel.”

“It's not an act, I'm usually just brooding,” he admitted. Normally he would have left it there, but he'd been feeling a little more thawed recently. They'd all fought together enough that he could unbend a little. “I'm not great at approaching people directly. The instant I try to think of something clever to say, I start tripping all over myself. I overthink it.”

“You're serious.”

“Deadly. Maybe I just prefer my women aggressive,” he joked.

Definitely a comment he'd regret later.

All in all it was an evening that he was grateful to have had. He'd convinced everyone to stay at his side even though they had enough now to all but retire- go legitimate, stake a claim somewhere, buy into a new colony or settle down on an existing one without too much trouble, but...

It didn't feel over.

There was still progress being made, little by little they were crippling operations. The Talon were staying the hell out of their way for the most part, but the other three were actively fighting back. And somehow, against all odds, his little squad was winning. They had faith in him.

He couldn't disappoint them now.

The responsibility Faith had felt, the desperation to remember every name, he understood it now. They'd only lost two people over the last year and a half, but they both weighed heavy on his mind. He wouldn't forget them. The weight of it all was a burden he was surprised to find wasn't impossible.

But he was still just a man, in the end.

Which was why when Frankie crawled into his bed that night, drunk out of her mind, his brain entertained it for half a second longer than it should have. But no. There was a strange block there, not just because she was his crew, but because she was human. The first was enough of a reason, but the second...

Made it impossible.

He tucked her in, grabbed his rifle, and left his tiny room, glancing briefly at the security roster on the console on his way out. Las. Great, no way that would have gotten past her. In fact, as he passed through the darkened lounge, she was watching from an archway, golden eyes gleaming faintly in the light coming from up the stairs.

He passed by her and headed up to the top of the base- there was a cot in there he'd used before when they'd first moved in.

Lasina followed him silently.

It wouldn't last, it never did- very few things she liked more than talking.

When he checked his rifle over and set it next to the bed, she wandered over to the small couch, flopping down on it. Resting her chin on the arm, she peered at him. “It's a bit bright up here- want me to close the shutters?”

“That'd delay things if I needed to survey the bridge, would have to wait for the shutters to come up. I can sleep in the light,” he dismissed. “Aren't you supposed to be watching the sec feeds?”

She lifted a datapad in her hand. “I am. Trust the alarms you put in, wouldn't you?”

Garrus just sighed, settling himself down on the cot and throwing an arm over his face. “Sure.”

“You wanna talk about it, Archangel?”

“Do I ever?”

“No, but you're finally starting to loosen up, and I'm your number one. Everyone says so. Except Sidonis, but he's just jealous,” Las said smugly. She laughed, and was still peering at him when he cracked open an eye. “You sure you're okay?'

“Sometimes I think I am, and then I'm not,” he admitted. A faint laugh escaped him, bitter and quiet. “I ah- she's been dead longer than we were even together. But I'm still screwed up.” If this was anyone else, he wouldn't say a word, but it was Lasina- his first friend he'd made in this damned place. “I once told her to ruin me forever, and I'm afraid that maybe she did.”

Las sighed, heavily, and exhale that slumped her shoulders. “That is actually a little romantic? But bad, I get it. Also bad. But Archangel...just give it more time. I can tell you're doing better than you were.”

“Yeah. Time helps,” he agreed, folding his hands over his chest, trying to settle his mind. “Time helps. But there's never going to be anyone else like her in the galaxy, Las. And honestly...it's the galaxy's loss.”

“She sounds pretty amazing.”

Garrus smiled. “She was.”

It was unfortunate that Karin's plan for her recovery was slightly hindered by one fact...

Mess Sargent Gardener wasn't that great of a cook. Sure, after being denied this long she should have been delighted with anything, but she'd never expected that so much not eating food would make so much taste weird to her. She could taste anything even remotely 'off'. But still.

It wasn't ration bars.

Joker was already making grandiose plans for next time they went to Citadel, and she didn't have the heart to tell him she would still have to go over everything she ate with a fine-toothed comb. About half of her allergies appeared to have disappeared over her clean-room recovery as her renewed body rebuilt itself. At least Miranda had been smart enough to keep her immune-suppressed. The reason for no gene therapy had been apparently because she'd been ordered to not 'modify' Shepard.

The fuck did the inability to eat strawberries have to do with her personality?

She had a feeling if she asked the Insufferable Man he'd just say something smug and condescending.

At least she only had a few genetic allergies- peanuts, strawberries, shellfish, casein. That was a much, much shorter list than it had been, and so far none of them had been confirmed as deadly like they had been. Even the ones she had left that weren't genetic were much much better than they had been.

The only 'allergy' she had that couldn't be controlled was the dextro one- but that was just a basic incompatibility that all levo species had.

She wished she knew the details of her turian allergy, but she'd discovered from the info Miranda had grudgingly passed her that unless they were hiding things from her (which they could be) Cerberus didn't know it existed. No. Until she had some goddamn privacy on her ship and in her own head she wouldn't say a word. She'd just hope.

Leaving the mess behind, she headed up to her room and poured herself a gin. She'd worked out hard today, she'd earned it. Tomorrow they needed to deal with the Purgatory.

Heading to the couch, Shepard glanced down as her omni-tool brought up a vid call from an unfamiliar comm address. She flopped onto the couch and accepted it, fingers idly tapping against the side of her glass as she settled. The holo flickered to life, waiting until hers oriented to speak.

“Target confirmed.”

Two words Shepard had both been dreading and hoping for. Kasumi's shadowed eyes were intent as they stared at each other through the holo. Shepard schooled her expression, giving nothing away as she thought, elbow propped up on the arm of the couch, fingers tapping her cheek thoughtfully.

“Anything else for me?”

“Pictures. Running a crew of between ten to twelve people. I followed them home from the bar and located their base- no one else has that I can tell. Very isolated. Well defended.”

Shepard fought down the surge of pride, but allowed herself a hint of a smile. “Interesting.”

“They're trying and failing to find information on a very large Eclipse transport coming in that they want to take out. Drugs, mostly. The transport is overseen by the brother of the leader of the Eclipse.”

Shepard let her hand still, letting out a long sigh. “Doesn't sound like a very fun party. Do you happen to have an invitation?”

“Shepard, I wouldn't have called you if I hadn't already found the information,” Kasumi said with a half smile. “What would you like me to do with it?”

“How close can you get to his base?”

“Very. How close would I like to get? Much less. It has excellent vantages and not much clutter around it. Perfect for sniping,” Kasumi said, and then added absently. “I like them. They're smart.”

“Sounds like he's doing pretty good for himself. Can you get close enough to tag security and draw attention but far enough to extract yourself afterward?” Shepard asked, fingers tapping idly on her glass.

Kasumi pursed her lips briefly, glancing down at Shepard's hand, and then finally inclined her head. The motion gave her hope. “Yes. Shall I leave the information there?”

“Yeah, and also load up the datapad with a copy of the Art of War in asari or turian, whichever is easier to find,” Shepard said, lips quirking up into a faint hint of a smirk.

Kasumi laughed softly. “Are you trying to insult him or tease him?”

Neither. She was warning him- as much as she wanted a reunion, she couldn't have him freaking out about it, not until her head was free of the bullshit they'd implanted. Couldn't give him away. She had to shock him in private, let him process it before they could meet face to face.

_Sorry, Cowboy, you're a weak spot._

Or maybe her salvation, if she could communicate enough to make him understand.

“Just messing with him a little. It's funny.”

“What if they leave something in response?” Kasumi asked quietly.

“I don't want you to expose yourself too much, I know you don't enjoy it.” When Kasumi lazily half-lifted a shoulder, Shepard raised an eyebrow. “Or not?”

“As I said, I like them. This is interesting. They won't catch me unless I want to be caught, Shepard, don't worry. Do you want me to follow them when they attack the transport?”

Shepard considered that, leaning back, tapping her glass against her knee as she stared at the holo. “If you're up for it. Just don't interfere unless it looks like you have to.”

“Understood.”

Kasumi's face blurred into digital noise, and then the call ended.

Shepard stopped the motion of her hand and lifted her glass to her lips to take another sip. Who knew if the message had been gotten or not, or even noticed. It was a hail mary- she really didn't expect anyone to know what morse code was, let alone know how to speak it. Granddad had taught her, but she'd never really expected to use it.

She'd only taught Joker because they were both bored out of their minds.

But if she had at least recognized Shepard was communicating, there was a chance.

Right now she had to take those chances.

Every piece of security in the base was hooked up not only to the appropriate consoles, but into the console in Garrus' narrow room that he occasionally slept in.

When the alarms blared, he went from full sleep to full wakefulness in a split second, in a way he hadn't since his service had ended. The rifle was next to his bed, and he slung it over his shoulder as he surged to the console. He didn't even turn off the alarm, just brought up what had set it off.

The left bridge security.

He set it back to the moment the alarm had been tripped, and watched as a dark figure shimmered into view out of nowhere. It bent down, dropped something on the ground, and then disappeared again. Tactical cloaking, must be- expensive tech. That was it. Nothing but a few seconds.

Cursing under his breath, he stormed out and headed up the stairs for the top level, ignoring the sleepy confusion behind him from the darkened lounge. Heart pounding, he made it to the top, eyes adjusting to the change in light as he took a knee and scanned the area through the scope. How the hell had someone gotten that close?

After one quick survey that came up with nothing, he focused in on what had been left behind, and zoomed in.

A...datapad.

“Archangel?” Frankie asked sleepily from behind him. She was rubbing sleep out of her eyes with a heavily scarred, white-tattooed hand when he glanced over, curly black hair sticking every which way. Out of armor, unlike him, but still with a machete tossed over her shoulder in its holster.

She only wore her armor when he made her- what was it with humans and their death wishes?

At least things between them were okay now. Okay in that she hadn't brought it up, so he hadn't either. He thought maybe Las had had a couple words with her to smooth things out- he really needed to give her a higher cut for all the stuff she did.

“Who's here?”

“Me, Lasina and Riva, Sidonis is on sec duty.”

“Get Sidonis, tell him to stay armed and armored. Someone paid us a visit, left something on the bridge for us, I need him to pick it up. Get your rifle when you're done and come join me to cover him. A gun, Frank. Not a knife, a gun.”

“It's my emotional support machete,” she muttered, turning and padding back down, barefoot.

Fighting the urge to say something sarcastic, Garrus went back to surveying the area. Always the chance it was a trap. He would have gone down himself to get it, but he was more useful up here. When Frank returned with her rifle and a helmet but no armor- he'd stopped asking why she did shit like that by now- nothing had changed.

He was on high alert, but nothing, not even a flicker of motion.

Frankie set up across the room, and as they waited for Sidonis to appear Riva wandered up to join them as well, pad in hand. She silently slung herself down in a chair to presumably watch the feed. At least she was in armor.

“The hell is going on?” Sidonis muttered in his ear. “I was just about to wake up Frank so I could sleep.”

“And somehow you somehow missed someone tripping our security? You really need to stay on alert,” Garrus responded, watching as he finally trudged out onto the bridge. He zoomed out slightly to track his progress.

“Like I said, I was dozing off. It was just bad timing,” Sidonis dismissed.

“Which I would feel better about if someone hadn't just tripped our security to drop off a datapad,” Garrus said, trying not to get too snarky about it. Complacency was something they couldn't afford. Not with the Blood Pack and Blue Suns desperate for their blood.

“I guess I can't argue with that,” Sidonis said. In Garrus' scope, he crouched down, scanning over the datapad briefly with his omni-tool before scooping it up. “Not booby-trapped, at least. Uh...”

Garrus could see it light up, but even with a scope this good there were limitations. “Just bring it back. You're exposed.”

“Archangel, this is...”

“Hey, you want to end up with a hole in your head, don't let me stop you.”

He watched as Sidonis double-timed back inside, still on edge. The instant the doors closed he was surging to his feet, slinging the rifle over his back. “Frank, stay on the bridge for another twenty or so. Riva, with me.”

“I called everyone in,” she said, following him down the stairs, still gazing at the datapad.

He glanced over at it, noting the zoom-in on the figure. “Any details?”

“Besides the fact that she's totally my type? No. Barely got her chin in the shot,” Riva said, shaking her head. “And that was deliberate. See the way she has her head angled? She knew exactly where the security was- she's good. Really good.”

“So we were supposed to to see her. That actually makes me feel a little bit better- not much, but a little,” Garrus sighed, glancing into the lounge as they paced down, navigating his way in. Sidonis was standing just inside the door, staring at the datapad with a fixed expression. “What? I haven't seen you stare at something that hard since Las bought you a lapdance.”

“It's the data on the Eclipse transport. Shipping manifest, date, time, location, everything except a crew roster,” Sidonis said numbly. “How the-”

Garrus stepped forward instantly and took it out of his hand, scanning through it rapidly. It seemed to be. He wasn't sure what he was more worried about- that this was a setup, or that it wasn't and someone had leaked their plans. Neither was good.

But if this was real...it was what he'd been hunting for almost a month.

Trying to shake off the dozens of possibilities his brain was scrolling through already, he flipped to the next file. It stopped him, even more than the other one had. Worse.

_The Art of War_

He'd almost forgotten about it, but like always happened with her, the instant he saw something that reminded him of her, the memory fought its way to the surface. Constellations on her skin, the taste of whiskey on his tongue, a battered paper book lying between them on her bed.

_If I don't make it, I want you to have it._

Now some version of it was in his hands.

What the hell was this, some kind of sick joke?

Nauseous, he ignored all the curious looks and stepped around to sling him down on the couch, fingers pressing to his forehead, the datapad falling onto his thigh. It was finally starting to hurt less, and now this? Was someone trying to torture him?

“Archangel?” Las asked softly, sinking down next to him.

“Someone's playing a sick joke on me,” Garrus replied, tensely. When she took the datapad out of his hand, he let her. For now. Once he caught his breath, he'd be tearing through the damn thing. There had to be a clue in there somewhere.

“Umh, it's a book,” Lasina said. “This has some sort of significance?”

It was barely a question. He needed to get control of himself. Breathing out slowly, he lifted a hand and glanced over as she scrolled through the pages. “It's some old human book. Never read it. It was important to an old friend. They're dead.”

The looks being exchanged over his head weren't appreciated, but at least the topic was dropped.

“Umh, there's one more file, Archangel. Just a note.”

The datapad was passed back over to him, and he took it warily.

Human script.

Less than a sentence of it.

“Frank!” his voice cut through the air. “I can't read this, get down here!”

“Archangel, what the hell is going on?” Las asked, grabbing his shoulder and leaning her chin against it.

Frankie clattered down the stairs, hair bouncing, rifle in one hand. He didn't say a word to Las, who pouted as he thrust out the datapad to Frankie. She took it, blinking.

“Uh...it's not words. It looks like a code. D-E. SR 2. C-U-L.”

DE SR-2 CUL

He had no idea what it meant, except SR-2.

_SR-2_

_Her_ ship had been the SR-1. No, it wasn't possible... but what if it was? What did it mean? Would it lead to whoever was screwing with him like this?

“Frankie, I need you to figure that out. It might be an Alliance military code, something like that. Something human.”

“Uh, I guess I can ask Amir...” she said uncertainly.

“The hell is going on, Archangel?” Sidonis asked.

“I need a list of every ship that's docked on Omega legally in the last month- make it two. I don't care how you get it. If you need credits, I'll pay it myself, but I _need_ that list,” he snapped, shaking his head.

“Thrax is still taking bribes. But...Archangel, what are we looking for?”

“The Normandy,” Garrus said flatly, staring back down at the datapad as it was handed back to him. “SR-2.”

No, it wasn't possible.

Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hope you're doin' okay out there, I know holidays can be rough. <3


	5. Chapter 5

Garrus wasn't sure if he was pleased or not.

This was a big blow to the Eclipse, a move they'd been trying to make for a long time now. A decisive attack. Except he hadn't realized that among the mercs was Jaroth's brother. Well, he was dead now.

Shaking his head, he stepped back from the bodies, gesturing for Denir to go past him and set the explosives.

Leaving the cargo intact would make this all pointless.

“Shit, that's...” Las said, dropping her shotgun as he walked past her. “Uh, shit, Archangel. Jaroth's going to be mad as hell.”

“Good,” he said simply, despite his own worries.

“Okay, cool guy,” she laughed. “I guess we'd better strip these bodies, and- shit!”

Garrus spun abruptly as a shot rang out, grabbing Las by the arm and pulling her back. She staggered back, eyes wide, but he had no time to assess her state. One of the salarian mercs on the ground had dragged himself up against a crate, pistol in hand, lining up another shot as greenish blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

Garrus was reaching for his rifle when another shot rang out from behind them.

A direct shot between the salarian's eyes. The gun trained on Las dropped from his suddenly limp grip, and he slid to the side.

Garrus pulled Las around, tension relaxing when he saw nothing more than a scorch mark across her upper arm. A bad burn. Nothing that some medi-gel couldn't take care of.

“Always confirm a kill,” he snapped, turning to face whoever it was that had taken the shot. A good shot, impressive, but... “You fire twice, or we end up dealing with things like this!”

No one was looking at him. They were looking...up.

“I don't need to fire twice,” a quiet voice said from above.

Standing above them on a stack of empty crates waiting to be filled from the transport was the woman from the bridge. It had to be. Dressed all in black, hooded, only her chin and lips were visible. She was smiling, very faintly.

“Weapons down,” he ordered his people, but cautiously. “You're the one I have to...thank for that information?”

Riva rushed in, grabbing Las and pulling her back and out of the way. Her fussing and Las laughing it off was a quiet background. The woman in black's eyes flicked towards them briefly, and then back to Garrus again.

“Acquired on orders of my employer,” she replied quietly.

“Who?”

“Classified.”

Rather than fight with her about that, no matter how much he wanted to, Garrus switched to, “why?”

“I am not authorized to answer questions,” she said, smile deepening just a little.

He could see some impatience out of the corner of his vision, restless movement. “I appreciate the mysterious act, but is there anything you _can_ give me?”

The woman let out a slow sigh, turning her back on him, gesturing with her pistol as one hand went to her ear. “I do not know. Let me see if there is anything I am meant to be saying.”

Frustrated, but needing something, anything to confirm his worst suspicions, Garrus glanced across the crew. “Strip the bodies and toss them in the transport along with whatever they offloaded.”

“We're just going to ignore her?” Frankie asked, gesturing upwards.

“She did just possibly save my life,” Las called over.

“Yeah, but-”

“Just do what needs doing,” Garrus said, stepping closer to the stack of crates, letting everyone go past him. “We don't have forever.”

Abruptly there was a laugh from above him, short and quiet. The woman's hand dropped from her ear, and she glanced back over her shoulder. Under the shadow of her hood, her eyes met Garrus'. “I've been authorized to answer your second question. The why.”

“I'm listening.”

“To make sure you don't get yourself blown up again,” she said, and disappeared.

_Faith._

No, no, it couldn't possibly be. Faith was dead. But who else would have said that to him? Who else had ever said that to him? Damn it, why had he lost Joker's comm address? Why had he cut off literally every single person in his life?

Blankly turning away, he focused on finishing the mission.

They had to get rid of this cargo before the Eclipse discovered what had happened and sent reinforcements. Apart from the small hiccup, the op had gone smoothly. The information they'd been given was good, not a trap. That was rare these days.

It seemed like everything kept being a set-up.

Not that they didn't walk right into them, but he walked into them informed, and ready to snap the trap.

So far it had been working well.

They retreated to the base, splitting up, taking new routes, the usual scattered formation that thus far had kept them from being discovered. Garrus went alone, struggling to process what was happening. Either someone had invested a lot into _specifically_ fucking with him, or...

She was alive.

The thought had barely insinuated itself before he rejected it, violently.

It couldn't even be considered, he couldn't let it be. She'd been gone for two years. They'd never recovered the body, true, but in space that hardly mattered. She would have suffocated, if she hadn't re-entered and-

Spirits, he didn't want to be thinking about that- he was just going to make himself sick.

When he reached the base, almost everyone was back, already beginning to celebrate. He should be, too. It was a big victory. But now his head was mired in things he thought he'd gotten free of.

When he slumped down on the couch, not bothering to clean off his armor, Riva glanced up from her conversation with Frankie. “Sidonis got those records in. Audio, too. You paid extra for that.”

“It's coming out of your allowance,” Garrus joked, trying to sound as normal as he could. A datapad was tossed to him, and he grabbed it out of the air, glancing at Frankie.

She shrugged. “It's not a fuckin' military code, I don't know what to tell you. DM is an acronym for a few things, I wouldn't know which one to choose. Direct message, demilitarized...uh, zone, I guess not that one. Dungeon master? Sorry, just flailing in the dark.”

“What about the other one?” Garrus asked, opening the port register.

“CUL? Well, it's silly, but it's usually an acronym used in shorthand communications between friends. C sounds like see, U sounds like you, and L for later. So see you later. But that wouldn't be a military code.”

He wasn't listening any more. There it was, a little over a week ago. The Normandy SR-2. Except... it had no port of origin, and wasn't Alliance military. Cross-referencing, not hearing anything, he brought up the audio recordings. By date and time he found it.

A familiar voice, rough and crackling sounded out of the datapad. “Omega? This is the Normandy SR-2, requesting docking privileges. We're just dropping something off, won't be in your way for more than a few minutes.”

_Joker._

Closing out his eyes, he let out a slow breath. It was Joker. Who else would he fly for these days but her? Certainly not the Alliance, he was as furious with them for how they'd betrayed Faith as he was.

Silently he opened his eyes and brought up his omni-tool, not even noticing how many people were staring at him. He made the call, and rose to his feet, pacing away from the couch. It was habit to keep things like this to himself by now. If everything was coming out, though...

Sooner or later he was going to be exposed.

“I'm s'posed to be doing my work right now.”

“Sorry, Mini. Have you talked to your Uncle lately?” Garrus asked, trying to keep his voice even and calm.

“Not in a little bit, he said he's gonna be real busy for a while. Hey, if I send you my math sheets will you do them for me?”

“No, Mini, you have to do your own work. Can you send me your Uncle's comm address, please?”

There was a moment of silence, and then Emi's voice went slightly sly. “I will if you do my math sheets.”

For a moment he was shocked, and then annoyed. Humor followed behind. She was such a little brat. “Mini, how are you going to catch up if I do your work for you? I'll look them over once you _try your best_ , but that's the most I can promise.”

She sighed, explosively. “Fine! God. Why do you want to talk to Uncle Joker? You _told_ me never to give anyone your comm address and I didn't.”

“Just to talk. Have you...talked to anyone else lately?” If Faith was alive, she would have contacted her daughter, wouldn't she have? He couldn't believe she wouldn't, unless she wasn't able to. Or she didn't know...

But of course Joker would have told her.

“No. Everybody's always _busy_ , and Aunt Ash is off at some colony doing something I don't know. Everybody keeps secrets from me, you're all annoying.”

“That's being an adult for you. I wouldn't be in such a rush to get here if I were you. Thanks, Mini. I'll let you get back to your work,” Garrus said, feeling a little guilty he'd only called her for this. Their calls weren't very long lately, and he knew she needed someone to talk to. “I'll...try to make some time to play games with you, okay?”

“Whatever,” she said simply, and hung up on him.

Well, if he hadn't been feeling guilty before, he sure would be now.

Pushing off the wall to turn himself around, he headed back towards the lounge. A drink was pressed on him in passing, and he took it with a nod and a smile. Still not going to get drunk, though he wasn't going to begrudge anyone else it.

Knowing that woman in black knew where their base was made him a little uneasy.

Frankie was eyeing him with a particularly intent gaze, and when he glanced down he noticed she was holding the datapad Sidonis had given him. Great. Maybe he wasn't as un-outed as he'd hoped. It wasn't like Faith wasn't one of the most recognizable people in the galaxy.

His fears were quickly confirmed.

“The Normandy is Commander Shepard's ship,” Frankie said, a little bit too loudly for his taste.

“Yeah,” Garrus said, taking a chair this time, sinking into it.

“Commander Shepard is dead. The Normandy...blew up,” Frankie insisted, waving the datapad. “Why is there a Normandy SR-2 sending us messages or whatever?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. “I wouldn't be surprised someone is using the name, it's famous now.”

“Isn't that the Hero of the Citadel?” Riva asked curiously, leaning over the back of the couch.

“Yeah, there's rumors she's alive,” Amir said from the bar, in the midst of pouring himself a drink. When Garrus turned a hard, accusing look on him, he blinked twice. “What? My cousin works for C-Sec, he told me people saw her on Citadel.”

What?

He'd been under control, but now he had to know just what the hell was going on. The pain that rose was something he hadn't felt in a long time, somehow all the sharper for having faded. How could she be alive?

And if she was alive...why was she doing this to him?

Why wouldn't she just come talk to him?

_See you later..._

Shepard was battered, bruised, but pleased.

Jack was exactly what she needed- and it wasn't even about just her biotics.

“I bet your ship's got lots of Cerberus databases. I want to look at those files. See what Cerberus has got on me,” she demanded, standing on the cusp of returning to the Normandy. The Purgatory behind them was chaos and destruction, certain death- but still she was making demands.

She still pushed the boundaries.

“Absolutely,” Faith laughed, ignoring Jacob and Miranda. Yes, this was what she needed, the suspicion for the organization. Damn it, she'd get Jack's loyalty one on one, the way it should be.

“Shepard, you're not authorized to do that,” Miranda snapped, interrupting.

“Relax, it'll be perfectly fine,” Shepard assured her, flashing an easy smile. “I'll talk to the guy myself if I need to. You know me. I believe everyone has the right to know what people are saying about them.”

“If it upsets the cheerleader, even better for me,” Jack snorted.

Yeah, no, Shepard liked her.

"I am the Commander's second in command. On the Normandy, we follow orders," Miranda said severely. In front of Shepard, like she wasn't even there. Okay, Miranda.

Before things could escalate, Shepard interrupted with an easily charming smile. “Welcome on board.”

Her hand was ignored as Jack walked past her, but Shepard just grinned, shaking her head and turning back to head back for the Normandy. This was gonna be fun. Shame they couldn't save more of the Purgatory, but at least she hadn't been captured and sold to the highest bidder.

“I think I could have used a little more info about this place,” Shepard said, tucking her hands behind her head as she followed Miranda. She always followed Miranda. On the off-chance that something in her head was sending a feed that Miranda had access too, she wanted to force her to watch hours of Shepard staring at her ass.

Faith was just that petty.

“I apologize, Shepard, it was unanticipated.”

Jack snorted, and Faith had to hide a smile.

“You know I can't blame you for that, Miranda. Don't worry. It worked out in the end, it always does. I'm just that good.”

“May I ask what that call from Miss Goto you thought was so important that you answered in the middle of a fire fight was?” Miranda asked, a little clipped.

Jack raised an eyebrow, glancing from her to Miranda. Shepard got it. Miranda was definitely starting to slip a little- getting more arrogant, demanding, expecting Shepard would defer to her. It was working. She knew Miranda wanted to be in charge. She just had to keep making her think she was.

“Ah, that op she's helping out with on Omega needed a hand,” Shepard chuckled, making sure she sounded very pleased with herself. “The old dinosaur's probably losing his mind!”

“Is playing tricks on your old squad mate a good use of our resources, Commander Shepard?”

Shepard scoffed, throwing up a hand. “What better use? No, no. He's doing good work, and I'm a soldier, Miranda. I know I can't ask him to leave his men behind. As much as I'd love to have a good sniper on my squad, Kasumi's made it pretty clear that they're well settled-in there. She's assessed the situation sufficiently. After we go see the Warlord I'll go pick her up and get you that doctor you want.”

“Vakarian would still be an asset to our mission, Shepard. Are you certain it's wise to give up without even speaking to him?” Miranda asked, sounding very dubious indeed.

Miranda pulling for him only reassured her that she was playing this entirely right. Not even a hint of her past relationship with him had escaped. That was good, good. Meant that if Shepard could get him on board with the playacting somehow, the next step of her plan might be able to be enacted.

“Eh, maybe when we pick her up I'll have a chat with him, then. For you, Miranda,” Shepard smiled, tilting her head to the side.

Jack made an exaggerated gagging noise.

Yeah, Shepard liked her.

“We should not overlook any possible asset,” Miranda said stiffly.

They headed into the Normandy, the soft drone of the ship's decontamination barely done before Miranda was escaping. Jacob gave her a sidelong look, shaking his head. Shepard grinned, lifting her shoulders helplessly.

“What?”

“Be a little less thirsty, Shepard,” he told her, and grinned when she just laughed. “I'll meet you in the gym in the morning?”

“Yeah. Leg day, don't forget. Gotta up your weight on those squats, Jacob,” Shepard agreed, not a little pleased to have a gym buddy. Plus, her overt 'thing' for Miranda kept him from getting any ideas. Useful on two fronts!

“Great,” Jacob muttered, heading for the armory.

“All right. Let's get you settled, Jack,” Shepard said, pulling off her gloves. “I'll get you that info as quickly as I can. Just gotta go through Miranda to get access.”

“I'm sure you'll enjoy that,” Jack snarked, hopping out, rolling her shoulders back.

“The crew quarters are-”

“Yeah, no thanks. I'll find my own place, somewhere near the bottom. I don't like through traffic,” Jack said, rolling her shoulders in a shrug. How did that shirt stay in place? Damn, that was a skill and a half.

“Sure. I'd like to fight with you next time, see what you can do. Get yourself settled however you like,” Shepard agreed. Joker's chair was swiveled around, facing this direction. He wanted something from her.

“Whatever,” Jack said dismissively, walking away.

Shepard watched her go, lips quirked up into a bemused smile, and then shook her head and turned to head for the front of the ship. At her approach, Joker turned back around. She leaned against his chair, a comfortable nostalgia to the motion.

“So much for giving a tour.”

“She's _feisty_ ,” Joker said sarcastically. He was silent for a few seconds, leaving the remnants of the Purgatory. Jack sure had made a mess of it. Again, Shepard might have felt bad if the warden hadn't tried to kidnap her to sell her to the highest bidder.

“We're gonna go pick up Okeer. Hopefully he's feeling like joining us.”

“Got you,” Joker said, heading for the mass relay. “So, Garrus called me.”

Her heart momentarily skipped, flipping upside-down with a sudden nervousness, but she kept her face blank, apart from a faint smile. “How's the old dinosaur? Pissed at me?”

“I didn't pick up. Didn't want to mess with your games,” Joker chuckled. “Maybe I'll shoot him a message later over text so I don't have to hear him complain about you. Anything to pass along?”

“Nah, you can just tell him what I told you,” Shepard said, resting her chin on her hand as she gazed out at space. She let the statement hang for long enough that she was fairly sure Joker got it, and then blinked and laughed. “You know. Just hi or whatever.”

“Gotcha. Hey, I heard something about pancakes tonight? Maybe even the Sarge can't screw that up.”

“Yeah, I can have eggs now!” Shepard said enthusiastically. “I got another panel done, I'm in the clear. I mean, I've had pancakes before, but never the traditional kind with dairy and eggs. Maybe I'll finally find out what the fuss is about with scrambled eggs.”

“A whole galaxy of food is opening up to you, and you get excited about the most basic crap,” Joker said disapprovingly, shaking his head. “This is why we got divorced.”

“Mister Moreau, records indicate that you and Commander Shepard have never been married,” EDI said, interrupting the banter. Shepard hid a 'snerk'.

“Oh my god, you ruin everything!” Joker snapped, and then gave a long, tired groan. “Shepard, get this thing off my ship.”

“Sorry, buddy,” Shepard chuckled, reaching down and gently squeezing his shoulder in an affectionate gesture. Discreetly on the back of his shoulderblade, blocked by the chair and the lean of his body, she tapped a simple three-letter code against him, and then released him. “You know I'm trying to get on Miranda's good side. I think it's starting to work. Be a good wingman and help me out, would you? Play nice with the AI. I gotta go take my medicine before the doc gets up my ass.”

“Always the wingman, never the wing-manned,” Joker sighed, shaking his head. “Fine, fine.”

Hopefully he knew enough not to send the message where there might be cameras.

She had to trust Joker right now.

G-

I've been instructed to give you a message, because we're in a fucking spy movie or something right now. I'm sending it exactly as it was given to me, because knowing her that matters. No idea.

ACT NORMAL

CFM ME

IS COMPROMISED

Those I were told to repeat back to you- she gave them to me. This last one is just for you.

SOC

The walls have ears here. Sorry. I don't think she wants me to contact you again.

See you soon.

Garrus didn't know that idiom, but he could guess what 'the walls have ears' meant.

Someone was listening.

Damn it, why did she- if it was her- keep sending him things in code he didn't understand? Reading the message over for the third time, he dropped his omni-tool and checked his perch again. Still no signs of movement from where the drop-off was supposed to be. Well, he had gotten here extremely early.

Garrus tapped his ear. “Amir.”

“Still in position, Archangel.”

“That code. If I gave you more of it, would it help you figure out what it might be?”

“You got another message from Commander Shepard?”

Everyone had decided it was her. He didn't know why. For some reason they were all excited that the somehow-resurrected Commander Shepard was helping out their operation. The 'why' wasn't answered, but Las wouldn't stop giving him looks and he knew it was only a matter of time before she confronted him.

Riva was currently in the lead with her theory that Commander Shepard was just so impressed with them that she wanted to help.

“Let me copy it and send it to your omni-tool so it'll be translated properly. If it's a code in human language it won't work if I read it to you.”

_Compromised._

How did she mean that? Was it not her after all? Or did it mean that whoever she was working for had something over on her? It wasn't like she had the funding to pull off getting her own ship, right? There had to be someone else involved. Maybe they were holding her hostage, or...

Leaving out the rest of the message, he just sent the parts that Joker had said were from her, sending it off to Amir in a separate message.

Turning his attention back to his sniper rifle, he watched the drop zone.

About thirty seconds passed, and Amir gave a faint 'huh'. “Some of it's code, some of it isn't. Some of it's bad grammar.”

“The bad grammar might be part of the code.”

“It's like I'm chasing a serial killer all over again. Okay. So pieces of code we have so far are...DM, CUL, I'm assuming CFM is confirm from the context, but it's still code, and SOC. So let's just search those all together and see if we can figure out what she's working from.”

He appreciated the brisk, businesslike tone of voice. Which was why he'd asked Amir and not Frankie this time. Besides, this was Amir's sort of puzzle. His too, but damn it, he didn't speak the language. Frustrating. He'd much rather be handling it alone.

“It's...well hell. They're morse code prosigns. All except the last one. Acronyms meant to speed communications- morse code is an ancient code that was used long, long before most comms were operational. It's all dots and dashes, and-”

“Can you translate it?” Garrus interrupted.

Amir cleared his throat. “Ah, yeah. The first one just said 'From the SR-2, see you later. Well, what do you know? Frankie was right. I guess it was just a message to confirm where the data on that transport came from.”

“How about the second one?”

“Act normal- that's not in code. I confirm it's me. Basically. Is compromised- that's the bad grammar, I'm not sure why it's there, maybe a mistake. Maybe should be I'm. And then...SOC. Which isn't a code?”

“It's not?” Could it be another mistake?

Amir gave a faint 'hmh', gravelly voice low and thoughtful. “Well, SOS is a distress call. Save our ship. It's- oh.”

“What?” Garrus asked, trying not to snap.

“SOC. Save our Commander. Archangel, I think Commander Shepard might be asking for your help.”

_Faith._

She needed him.

“Archangel, incoming!” Riva snapped, cutting into his comms. “Fifteen Batarians, Blue Sun. Just like we expected!”

But so did Omega.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you celebrate, I hope you are having a Happy Christmas with people who are worth your time! I may update tomorrow, I may not. :) I'm starting to run out of backlog, so it depends.


	6. Chapter 6

Shepard fisted her hands on her hips, head tilting to the side as she gazed at Grunt across the mat.

It was nice to have a krogan on her squad again, even if he wasn't the one she'd been expecting to bring onboard. She liked Grunt, though. The kid had a lot of potential, if he managed to chill out a little.

“Uh, not to question orders, Shepard, but are you sure about this?” Jacob asked, in the midst of unwrapping his gloves, sweat beading his face.

He was definitely more her type than Miranda was, but unfortunately the whole 'Cerberus' thing basically cancelled out any possible attraction. Her brain was way too wired into her hormones, it was unfair. Eye candy should be eye candy, brain, stop complicating it.

“Grunt's insistence that a bunch of implanted memories make him combat-perfect and infallible is a liability. He needs to realize he's still got a lot to learn through practical experience, and I'd rather that happened here and not in the middle of a fucking fire fight,” Shepard retorted.

“Except, and I get that, Shepard...but he's still a krogan and you're still a human.”

“Would you like to know how many krogans I have single-handedly killed? A lot.”

“With a gun,” Jacob said, but with a bit of humor this time.

“Would you like to know how many krogans I have single-handedly killed without a gun?” Shepard asked, glancing sidelong at him and flashing a grin. “Admittedly the number _is_ much smaller, but it still exists.”

Jacob frowned thoughtfully, lifting the end of the towel around his neck to wipe his face. He smiled. “I guess it's gonna be interesting, then.”

Shepard winked at him, and then turned to saunter into the middle of the mat, gesturing to Grunt. He meandered closer, peering down at her dubiously. “Okay. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to kill you in under sixty seconds. Once I do that, we're going to work together to figure out how you could have avoided getting killed.”

“And when you fail?”

Shepard spread her hands wide, flashing a quick, cocky grin. “Always possible. If I fail, I admit that I may have less to teach you than I thought. I'm not much of a battle master if I don't have anything to teach you, but I'm not much of one if I don't admit that there are things I could learn, Grunt.”

He thought about that, and then finally nodded his head. They squared up. Her instincts hadn't dulled, but she'd noticed her reaction times weren't as good as they'd been. This was as much for her as it was for him. She needed to be faster. She needed to be stronger.

Shepard needed to be at her best.

When he surged forward, she was waiting, ducking low and around him. He had good reaction times for a krogan, but that was like saying a dreadnought was fast- it might be, but a frigate could still outpace it any day of the week, even less than top of the line. By the time he was turning, she was already on his back. For a kid, Grunt had a pretty decent hump, but she still managed to get her arm around his neck, jerking his chin up as her other hand came around.

It was over before he realized what she'd done. “Boom. Dead. I can get the left and front four carotid arteries in one slice. You'll bleed out.”

Grunt went very still, obviously thinking that over. “Krogan hide turns aside weapons,” he finally said, argumentative.

“Omni-blades are too thin to care,” she countered. “I override my tool to get a micro-edge on the thing. Could castrate a bull moose before it even realized what had happened. A knife would never get through, yah, but an omni-blade does, even if it breaks off in the process.”

“I don't know what a moose is,” Grunt said, but his voice was very thoughtful. Good, he was calculating. “What about the blood rage?”

Shepard gave a faint 'hmm', still hanging from his neck. He didn't seem to mind. “Depends on if they're already injured or not. Have I seen a krogan bleeding to death get back up and try to fight me? Yeah. Do they last long? No. With two hearts pumping, a krogan bleeds out faster than a human. It'd be stupid to try to take out a krogan's vital organs, but blood...”

“It is a weakness,” Grunt agreed, and then gestured. “I would like to try again.”

That was exactly what she wanted to hear.

They trained hard for a good hour, and Shepard was pleased to see that Grunt was willing to give it his all. That was what took people from good to great, that drive. Anyone could fight, but pushing boundaries further and further was how you ensured victory. Grunt was incredible potential, but a lot of it was still potential.

No matter what he thought on the matter.

She took her fair amount of hits, and endured the mockery and cackling when Jack discovered they were training and came to play peanut gallery. Shepard didn't mind. She liked Jack, and she was glad she was willing at least to think about being social. It'd take time.

Jack had more than enough reason to mistrust people, let alone Cerberus.

She'd just gotten thrown pretty hard and was wheezing away on the mat when her omni-tool demanded her attention. “What?” she panted.

“Coming in to Omega,” Joker said. “We've been ordered not to just take off this time, though. I think someone wants to talk to you.”

“I'll be prepared,” Shepard groaned, closing her eyes. Who the hell could it be. Someone with the power to ground the ship, she supposed. Maybe the purported boss-lady herself? “Well hell, maybe I shouldn't have let Grunt beat the shit out of me.”

“Masochist.” Joker hung up on her.

“Grunt! Jack! Get armed and armored. We're touching down on Omega.”

“What, not going to take your girlfriend?” Jack asked sarcastically.

Shepard flipped back to her feet, pulling her hair back from her face again. “I know I fight well with Miranda. I'd like to get there with you, too, Jack.”

“I do not want to fucking get with you the way you want to get with precious, thanks.”

Shepard laughed, heading for her locker as she plaited her hair into a deft braid. Grunt was already getting into his armor. Jack's snarky comments were only helping Shepard's facade. It was helpful, because Jacob usually tried to be polite about it.

If this meant Faith could hit on Miranda less and still maintain the illusion, all the better.

“Hell, Jack, way to damage a girl's ego. Don't worry. I prefer my women less likely to eat my head off after sex like a fucking praying mantis.”

“Hey, your loss. I've never heard any complaints. Just screaming.”

Shepard switched comm channels and tapped her ear. “Hey, doc. Heading out to Omega. I didn't notice any shortness of breath from this morning's dose. Barely tingly. I think it might be time to up the concentration.”

“Noted. Your vitals seem stable as well. Please be careful on Omega. I understand humans are not susceptible to the burgeoning plague they are contending with, but you are susceptible to...nearly everything else right now. Keep your helmet on as much as possible.”

“Copy, doc. Shepard out.”

Omega proved to be just as chaotic and noisy as Shepard expected when she finally got the chance to see it. Unfortunately, she didn't get to see much. Practically the instant they emerged from the port someone was on top of her, ordering her to go speak to the 'leader' of Omega. Aria T'Loak.

It was about as Shepard had expected.

At least it was a fairly quick conversation- she wasn't surprised that Aria mostly wanted to confirm her identity. Shepard had been very publicly dead for two years. She kept the conversation short and sweet, managed to get some info about the doctor and directions about where to go.

As far as rulers of chaotic, murderous space stations full of merc gangs and sin went, Aria seemed all right.

Shepard respected the hustle.

On their way out, she received an unexpected call- Kasumi. Shepard frowned to herself, bringing up the audio immediately. “Status?”

“Archangel has apparently agreed to a one on one duel to the death with the leader of the Blood Pack, I thought you might want to know,” Kasumi said quietly, but with faint amusement. “They seem well-matched.”

“Oh god damn it,” Shepard complained, trying not to sound worried. It was surging, though, emotions she'd been trying to keep down all this time. Damn it, what he was doing was dangerous enough, why did he have to go and do things like this? “We've already landed. Where the hell are you and how the hell do I get there?”

“Shepard, it is a duel,” Kasumi said, faintly disapproving.

“I give precisely zero fucks about that,” she retorted. “Honor doesn't mean a damn thing if it ends in a corpse, I don't care _what_ anyone says. But I will stay back unless it seems necessary.”

“Hmm.”

Luckily there was no more commentary from Kasumi on that. She gave decent directions- it seemed like she'd gotten well familiar with the place in Shepard's absence. That was good, because it was necessary right now.

But Jesus Christ...

Garrus was lucky that she was having to maintain a front right now, because if he was going to pull shit like this, that facade was the only thing standing between him and Faith dragging him by the crest off this goddamn station.

Suicidal jackass.

Garrus could probably admit that expecting Garm to play by the rules had been stupid.

It'd been a good fight, but then Garm had started losing and apparently all the rules went out the window. He'd called in reinforcements and ran. There were only two snipers and a five man team against him now, and Garm was long-gone. If he could get rid of the snipers, he could probably retreat- he'd called his squad, but they were too far out.

He wasn't in danger from anything but the snipers, though.

All he needed to do...

“Looks like you need a fucking rescue!”

A crackling biotic field washed over him, slamming into the side of the armored vehicle being used for cover. It crashed into the Blood Pack behind it, sending them scattering across the ground. A small human woman stalked into view, sending the vehicle skidding after it. She was...something.

More tattooed even than Frankie, her head was shaved, and she was wearing- well, not a shirt, some straps over the chest, but mostly just all exposed skin. No armor. _Humans_.

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?”

“I ask myself that every fucking day,” she cackled, reaching for her pistol. “Hey, if you could stop trying to be cool and actually _do_ something, that would be great!”

Rather than respond, Garrus reached out and grabbed the unknown biotic by the arm, jerking her to the side just as a bullet cracked into the ground where she would have been. She staggered, ripping her arm away from him, but thankfully huddled down behind the concrete barrier he was using as cover. Grinning ferally, she leaned around the edge.

“There are snipers,” he informed her.

“I forgot about that,” she admitted with a cackle. “Well? Are you going to do something about it or not?”

“Working on it.”

“I wasn't talking to you,” the biotic said with a grin.

An advance was shouted across the way, echoing, and Garrus cursed, shifting his rifle. Whoever this biotic was, at least she was on his side. For now. He couldn't keep an eye on her and the Blood Pack, though. She'd better be able to take care of herself.

He was lining up his rifle for a shot when a blur appeared in the midst of the surging mercs, a figure appearing out of thin air. Pistol to the back of the merc's head. She took the shot, with an echoing bang, and even as the body crumpled, she was disappearing. The woman in black again.

Confused and chaotic, her attack stalled the advance as the mercs immediately started looking for her.

“I was talking to _them_ ,” the biotic informed Garrus with another boisterous laugh.

“Yeah, I figured that out,” he said, and turned his attention upward to the snipers. They needed to go.

And...somehow they were.

As a body was hurtled over the side of the walkway, he didn't track it. No, his focus was on trying to figure out who had thrown it, though he heard the sickening crack as the sniper hit the ground. And the biotic's gleefully malicious laugh.

When he found the second sniper, they were already under attack. He couldn't see much, just the arm around their neck, clad in black armor. They were being dragged downward, which meant the person presumably on their side was out of the line of fire- so he took the shot. Kill steal.

Good, now the battlefield might be manage-

“Incoming reinforcements!” a voice shouted.

This is where he'd withdraw, his back was clear, there were no snipers. But...they weren't his people. And there was an itching, sneaking suspicion- no, a hope that he couldn't fight. It was desperately rising, refusing to be ignored.

No, no hope, but-

Faith.

“Not for long!” the biotic called, laughing, and then glanced at him. “Hey, cover me, would you?”

Sighing, he pulled out his assault rifle and leaned around cover to watch as she darted out without another word. Death wish. A body thudded against the other concrete barrier, and he glanced up and over in surprise. Instinctively his gun swung that way, until he realized the krogan wasn't wearing Blood Pack colors. Also he appeared to be shooting at them.

Well, all right.

Garrus got back to covering the possibly suicidal biotic.

Garm had withdrawn entirely from the battlefield, but he wasn't surprised to see in his survey over cover that the ten-man backup squad was led by his second, hunkered down behind the bulk of the fallen vehicle. A consolation prize, then. Garrus sent out a burst of fire, almost too distracted to listen to the chatter in his ear. A couple of his squad were close. If he'd ran he would have met them on the way out, but there was no way he was going now.

“Come and get it, motherfuckers!” the biotic shouted.

A body thudded at his back, a fist thumping against the back of his shoulder. Riva. He saw Amir and Denir taking position further down. It'd be enough. “Looks like you made some new friends!” Riva shouted over the gunfire.

“What can I say? I'm a popular guy!”

The firefight was more chaotic than they usually were- people not under his command in the way made it messy. Somehow the biotic managed not to die, eventually using her brain and taking cover. The krogan and the woman in black held their own well enough, and the figure that had been above-

Well, there was no sign of her, until there was.

Gracefully launching herself over the railing, a figure in tight-fitting black armor dropped from the sniper walkway. Her body cut through the air like a knife, omni-blade gleaming shimmering violet as it materialized. She dropped directly on the krogan's back, and he watched in silence as her arm slung around his neck, blade flashing as it went into his throat at the exact angle-

He'd watched her learn how to do it.

The krogan went down as she severed the arteries, choking on his own blood and thrashing. Immediately she withdrew, pushing off of his back with both feet and launching herself out of the way. Landing heavily, she staggered a little before catching her balance. He heard her curse.

Faith.

Amir gave a long, slow whistle from behind him, a sentiment he wholeheartedly agreed with. Damn was she ever a show-off, but damn was she incredible. He'd almost forgotten that.

The krogan struggled, orange blood spilling from the side of its throat as he began fighting back to his feet.

“Hold fire! I've got this handled!” Shepard demanded, lifting both hands. Her voice was another blow to his fragile composure. It was a wonder he was still breathing. Shepard pointed blindly at the young krogan with the shotgun. “You counting?”

“Yes.”

With a burbling, blood-spitting roar, the merc started swinging blindly at her. Effortlessly, she slipped out of his range, dodging charges. What the hell was she doing? Still, she'd said hold fire, and they'd fought together for too long. A command in that voice might as well be a law on the battlefield.

Eventually the krogan merc bled out. He was dead before he hit the ground, falling with a thud that could be felt in the soles.

“Holy shit, that was so cool!” the biotic shouted, and Faith laughed.

She laughed, a little out of breath, the cascade of her voice just a little rough at the edges, a soft rasp that twisted his heart in his chest.

C _ompromised._

He couldn't forget- she'd told him the only way she seemingly could. How, he didn't know. Did it mean it wasn't her after all, or did it mean she was being forced to- overthinking it would be the death of him right now. But she was here.

_She was here._

“How long?”

“Thirty two seconds,” Shepard's krogan squadmate said. “Longer than anticipated, Shepard.”

“Shepard?” Riva whispered from behind him, awe and shock in her subvocals.

“You can tell his age by the mottling on his hide,” she said, kicking the merc in the shoulder, rolling him over. “Maybe that's a factor. Maybe his hearts weren't working so-”

“I hate to interrupt class time,” Garrus said, slinging his rifle over his back and rising out of cover. He needed confirmation. As much as he just wanted to listen to her talk, listen to her talk forever, he needed to know, and he needed to know now.

“Aw, hell, you know you can always interrupt,” she said, reaching up with bloody hands to pull off her helmet.

A mixture of dread and hope was almost choking him, but he fought it down. The helmet was tucked under her arm, eyes lifting to meet his. It was her, reddish hair twisted into a plait that fell over her shoulder, dark, soft eyes fixed on his. But she was...different. Scars were gouged into her freckled skin, a red glow showing through- cybernetics, they had to be.

What had happened to her?

Was it her, or just someone using her face?

“Is that going to be all?” The question was crisp. “I don't have a bead on the enemy like you do.”

It was directed at him, impersonal and businesslike. As if they barely knew each other. Despite knowing something was wrong, it still felt like a punch in the jaw. All of this felt like an attack. Her, but not her, like the universe was mocking him.

“Yeah, I think I embarrassed Garm enough for one day,” he said in an easy drawl, trying to control his subvocals around Riva. “He doesn't deal well with disappointment.”

“Then he sure picked the wrong guy to attack,” Shepard laughed, and again her voice was just a little bit wrong. He couldn't have identified it immediately, but he could feel it. It wasn't exactly her. Like the damned picture at her funeral, her but not-her. Too cool, too brisk. “I'm sure you had it in hand, but hey- in the neighborhood. How ya doin', you old dinosaur?”

She stepped forward, extending a hand. He didn't want to touch her, but he stepped into it anyways, a quick hand-clasp to her forearm that she returned. Friendly, distant, the sort of greeting you'd give someone you fought with, but didn't care much about.

He realized he was holding onto her for too long, a second or two, probably only noticeable to him, but he jerked his hand back self-consciously.

“A little disappointed- he said the fight was to the death. I guess he just meant my death, not his,” Garrus said, fighting to control his mind. His fingers flexed in toward his palm, already missing the contact. He just wanted to pull her in. Demand answers.

“No honor among mercs, I guess. Well, I gotta go see a doc about a plague, otherwise I'd be happy to catch up.”

Garrus frowned. “You're not going to see Doctor Solus, are you?”

“I am,” Shepard said with a small laugh, different than the way she'd laughed earlier. This one was fake. “Acquainted?”

“Yeah, he told us to stay away from the quarantine zone,” he said trying to match her impersonal tone despite the unhappiness thrumming miserably inside him. “What's your business with him?”

“I need his help,” she said, lifting her shoulders in a shrug, arms folding. “And I'd like to help him. You know me, G-” She stopped herself short.

“What?”

“Trying not to blow your cover,” she laughed, nodding over his shoulder and lifting a hand. “Hi, guys! Anyways, yeah. Got some saving the world type business to do, you know how I roll. I sent my person to assess your situation, but I can see you're entrenched here, so I wasn't going to bother you about it.”

That hurt, despite his own conflicted thoughts on the subject. It was enough of an attack to break through his self-control. Anger surged to the fore.

“That's you for sure, making choices for other people instead of letting them choose.” He couldn't keep his voice from going flat. He was pretty sure his subvocals were far too bitter to hide.

She laughed, and this time it was even more strained than before. “Shit, you're not under my command any more, you don't get to scold me for how I run it.”

“I don't know, I think it makes me pretty well qualified to, _Commander_.”

“Command this!” she said cheerfully, lifting her middle finger at him. “Turians are no fucking fun.” It was dismissive, playful, but the humor was different- at his expense instead of inviting him in. She'd never been mean-spirited before. “All right, all right. But seriously, I have to go. Miranda's gonna spank me if I don't get this doctor, she's been bugging me about it for _weeks_.”

“I'm sure you'd love it if she spanked you,” the tattooed biotic said with a nasty little laugh.

Shepard just grinned, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

Garrus tried to keep his voice casual. Miranda? Who the hell was that? “I don't know Miranda, do I?'

“No, mostly new crew. I'm not flying Alliance, she's my new XO.”

He noticed despite her words, she wasn't ending the conversation. Forcing himself to stop letting his emotions take over and make him reactive, he assessed the situation. Was she trying to feed him information? Everything about her right now was so at odds with that encoded message- he had to remember what a good liar Faith was. Was this all an act?

He shouldn't have let it make him hope, but it did.

There were about fifty emotions crammed into him all at once, and he was switching between them so quickly he could barely keep up. He wanted to punch her, he wanted to shake her and demand answers, he wanted to pull her in and hold her until she gave up the lying and told him what he wanted to hear. That it was her, that she was all right, that everything was going to be all right.

But all he could do was play along.

“Who you flying for these days, Shepard?”

Faith shrugged one shoulder at him, smiling the smile that wasn't her, and the single word she said solidified every concern he had into a genuine fear. “Cerberus.”

_Oh no._

She _was_ compromised. There was absolutely no way the Faith he knew would have ever worked for Cerberus. What did they have on her? Was that why she was asking for rescue?

All he could think of to say was, “interesting.”

“About what I expected!” she said, shrugging her shoulders lazily. “Anyways, best get going. I can't say I'll be around these parts too often, but let me give you my comm address. I like what you're doing. If I can ever lend a hand, I'd like to.”

“We've got it covered, but there's no harm in taking your address,” he said, trying to follow her lead and sound uninterested.

“Jeez, you haven't even asked what I'm saving the universe from this time!” she joked, bringing up her omni-tool and stepping in. “Starting to feel like you don't care. Too cool for me now, huh?”

Of course he fucking wanted to know what was going on, but... “I'm sure whatever it is, Cerberus has everyone's best interests in mind,” he said, as coldly as he could manage while simultaneously thinking about how much he just wanted to hear her say his damn name. “You know, as much as a xenophobic terrorist organization can.”

Their eyes met as she glanced up from the omni-tool. For just a second, when that contact was made the cold, distant veneer faded, and it was her. It didn't last, but he saw it break through, and all of the anger and frustration died in that instant.

“Yeah. I kind of thought you'd feel that way. See you around, Cowboy.”

The nickname stabbed him straight through the heart, and he couldn't fake it any more. She averted her eyes and stepped around him, walking away. He listened to her call her squad, standing there staring at the scattered bodies of the Blood Pack mercenaries.

In that brief second it'd been his Faith again, what he'd seen in her eyes made him certain she was asking for help.

The pain and pleading was impossible to mistake.


	7. Chapter 7

Garrus was starting to get a headache.

“I cannot believe it. I can't believe it!” Riva said for maybe the fifth time.

He tipped the last of his whiskey into the glass. Time to get another bottle- it wasn't like they couldn't afford it these days. Lifting the glass, he took a sip, trying not to think about the first time he'd ever tasted it.

That was the night...

No, it was in his mind, especially having seen her earlier. The soft pink flush in her freckled cheeks, the way her eyes warmed when she glanced up at him- the slow torture of touching knees under the table. So stupid, silly, like kids trying to flirt. The Faith he remembered from that night on the Normandy was completely different than the one he'd seen earlier.

It wasn't her.

“So Commander Shepard rescued you?” There was a sarcastic edge to Las' voice that he didn't quite like. He'd known it was coming, but damn it, he was still absolutely raw after earlier.

“No, I would have retreated after I took out the snipers,” Garrus said, staring into the glass instead of drinking it, back to the lounge. “But she did make it possible to take down the Blood Pack reinforcements. Garm decided to be a coward. Damn it, I had him.”

Garrus would get him next time.

“But we got rid of Orak, finally,” Riva said, and then gave a long, slow sigh. “Commander Shepard was incredible. I should have recorded it- that drop was so fucking amazing. It was the most graceful takedown I've ever seen. Stunning.”

“Great, I've lost my girlfriend to another woman again,” Las laughed, leaning in and kissing the end of Riva's mandible, tugging her around for a forehead-touch. “You're hopeless.”

Garrus averted his eyes irritably.

He was exposed- it was basically too late. He wasn't sure if he was angry at Shepard for it, or if he was just angry in general at the situation. Too many emotions, and they kept twisting themselves back around to her.

She was easy to be angry at, and this was an anger he'd been sitting on for two years.

“She developed the technique with an old krogan mercenary,” Garrus said, lifting his glass for a sip. It was a sort of blasphemy considering how hard it was to get safe human whiskey, but the sip turned into a swig, and then the glass was empty. Grabbing out blindly, he found a different bottle.

“How do you two know each other? You obviously know each other,” Denir asked.

It was the question he'd been dreading, but he couldn't duck it now.

“I served on the Normandy SR-1 briefly as an independent contractor,” he admitted, pouring something that was probably the unpleasant swill the humans called vodka. “She was my Commander.”

_My_ Commander.

Stunned silence followed his pronouncement, but he knew it wouldn't be for long. Tossing back a swig of the unpleasant drink, he refilled the glass and started to turn away. Not fast enough.

“Were you there?” Frankie asked, pulling herself out of the couch for once to peer over it at him. Her eyes were too intent. “Like, the whole Battle of the Citadel?”

“Was I there?” Garrus repeated, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice as he turned away, heading for the stairs. Was he there? He should have been there until the end, and damned the consequences. Pausing at the bottom, he glanced back and informed them, “yeah, I'd say I was there. I'm the one who got the kill shot on Saren.”

Heading upstairs, he slung his rifle off his back, checking it over briefly by rote.

It'd been a long fight earlier against Garm. There had been a few close calls, but he'd known from the start that Garm wasn't nearly as good as he had been in his prime. The old bastard just couldn't admit he was slowing down. Garrus had made a fool out of him.

With any luck, that meant Garm would keep screwing up- getting rid of the Blood Pack would make their job a lot easier.

Garm, Jaroth, and then he'd finally get his second shot at taking Tarak down for good.

It was only a matter of time.

Bringing up his omni-tool, he headed for the sniper perch and turned on the target practice holo. It lit up the far end of the bridge with multi-colored, moving targets. Setting his glass aside, he focused in on the task at hand. He'd been fiddling with the targeting system on his visor yesterday, and while it seemed to work fine earlier, you never knew unless you ran it through its paces.

Taking a knee, he started lining up shots.

Normally the routine was like meditation for him, letting him clear his mind and relax. Tonight he fired like he had a grudge against the targets, and he felt like it, too. The anger wasn't going anywhere, and it was getting worse. A well-worn, aged emotion that he'd been holding back by shock and confusion.

“Now,” he muttered taking another shot, the target exploding into light and reforming elsewhere. He zeroed in on it. “Now you ask me for help.” Two more shots, two more perfect hits. “Not when I should have _been there_ , no.”

He didn't stop his target practice as he heard feet on the stairs behind him. He knew exactly who it was- there was only one person who would always interrupt him when he was in a mood. Pain in his ass.

“'I'm the one who got the kill shot on Saren',” Las said mockingly, laughter in her voice. “Damn, you do love your exit lines, don't you? Was that the truth?”

“I was _told_ as much, I don't remember. Blood loss. I was _slightly_ blown up at the time,” he admitted. “Almost lost my arm.”

“I'm taking your drink, you're not paying attention to it,” Lasina said, swiping his glass. She took a sip, and then made a sound of disgust. “What _is_ that? It doesn't even have any flavor.”

“Whatever Frankie drinks. Vodka, I think.” He took another shot, which was perfect. Of course it was. The rifle hadn't failed him yet.

“Mmh, gross,” Lasina said, and took another sip. She leaned against the wall next to him, resting her lower back against the ledge. “Speaking of Frankie...”

“Could we not?” he asked, taking another shot. A target exploded into sparkles. That wasn't his- someone had been modifying the program again. Probably Riva.

“Relax. I just wanted you to know I told her it wasn't going to happen, and she's okay. Who keeps the peace? That's right, me, your favorite. Tell me I'm your favorite.”

He lined up another shot. “She probably didn't even mean it, she was drunk.”

“Archangel, you know nothing about women, so don't start pretending you do.”

“Hmh.” He wasn't sure he liked the direction of the conversation, which was only confirmed when Las spoke again.

“So that's _her_ , huh? I get it now. She'd screw me up, too. Awfully pretty in the vids. And charming, especially for military. Gorgeous smile. Nice tits.”

“Oh, she knows she's charming,” he said in a mutter, not bothering to argue with the rest.

“You still talk to her daughter. That rifle is _old_ , Archangel, you could replace it, but no. 'It was a present',” she said, leaning heavily on the words. “You refuse to give up something you stake your life on because she gave it to you. The only partners you even bother with are ones you don't ever have to see again. You've spent two years _not_ moving on. Specifically choosing not to do anything that might help.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” He took another shot.

“Okay, maybe later,” Las said, draining the glass. “What are you so pissed about?”

So many things, but... “She has a lot of nerve asking me for help.”

“So she dumped you,” Las said cuttingly, and then smiled when he turned his head to stare her down. Her golden eyes crinkled at the corners, fingers drumming her cheek. “You don't scare me, so don't even try, Archangel. This isn't 'my girlfriend died and now she's back and is treating me weird' levels of brooding. This is worse.”

“There were...complications,” he said, which was a pretty small word for 'I could kill her with my spit'. “She didn't want to try. Gave up. Decided it was 'best for me'. Didn't even give me a chance to try and convince her otherwise. And then she left without me, and I wasn't there to protect her like I was supposed to be, and she- and she...”

“Died,” Las said quietly, understanding. A few seconds passed in silence as they watched the targets dance in the distance. Finally, she sighed, slow and heavy. “That's shit, Archangel.”

The acknowledgment helped a little.

He'd been ignoring this for so long in the hopes that he'd just move on, but all it had done was make it fester. Damn it, he should have been there. She kept him away when she needed him most.

_Who protects Shepard if I'm not there?_

No one.

“But no, she's alive, but something's wrong and she needs my help. Except I'm so damn _angry_ at her that I can hardly see straight, Las. I've spent the last two years being angry at her for dying, and-”

“Is this a bad time?”

Ignoring Las' shushing gesture, Garrus turned and stared down Amir, gesturing him in. “Every time right now feels like a bad time, why should this be different? What do you need?”

“I've been thinking over the message you had me decode,” Amir said, shaking his head, one tattooed hand lifting to rake his dark hair back, twisting it to the side. “Going over the possible ways the Commander could be compromised, but nothing seemed to fit. Until we saw her earlier. Has she always had those cybernetic implants?”

“No,” Garrus denied, tapping his finger on his rifle. “That's new.”

Amir crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. “It's entirely possible then, that she's been out of commission for so long because she was severely injured when the Normandy was destroyed. If the cybernetics are Cerberus' work, it's entirely possible they're being used to control her. They could have implanted a control chip-”

Garrus felt his stomach sink, a hollow, sick feeling. “What?”

“I'm no cyberneticist, but I know it's possible. There was that cult in Utah that got taken down by the Alliance military last year that chipped all their members. Grim shit.”

“Goddess, that's sick,” Las whispered, horrified.

“It would explain the fact that she's communicating discreetly.”

“Through Joker. Damn it, I need to talk to him, but I can't,” Garrus said. Anger was rising again, but this time it wasn't at her, but Cerberus. “There's no way she'd work for them willingly. She _hates_ Cerberus. They killed her entire squad on Akuze. She still has nightmares- or, she did.”

“You two were close,” Amir said, sounding surprised.

“Ex girlfriend,” Las said, continuing on before Garrus could protest or get pissed at her. “When you met her, did she _seem_ normal?”

“Seemed like most military I've met,” Amir said, thankfully dropping the other line of questioning.

“Which would be true, but- no, she was _definitely_ not. Even when we were strangers she wasn't that much of a stranger,” Garrus said, shaking his head. “She has a way of making you feel like you've known her forever, getting along with everyone. That sort of thing. No, earlier that was her holding me at arm's length. And her voice was...off. I can't explain it, but she was off.”

“She doesn't want them to know you were close, maybe,” Las surmised, shrugging her shoulders. “If she's half as good as Spectres are supposed to be...”

“She is,” Garrus interrupted harshly.

“Woah, calm down, not questioning.”

“I'm not angry at you, I'm just-” He finished with a gesture.

Lasina sighed. “Right, but I'm saying that it's probably an act, then. So what did she tell you that she wanted you to know?”

“That she's working for Cerberus, that she's going into the quarantine zone to ask Doctor Solus for help with something,” Garrus wracked his brain. “Her new second is named Miranda, and-” Now was really not the time for jealousy, especially considering how angry he was at Faith, but it decided to join the party anyways. “Faith seems to be interested in her.”

“Wait, she said that in front of you?” Las asked, disbelieving.

“Yes,” Amir confirmed in a rasp that sounded dangerously close to a laugh. “I was there. Something about spanking.”

“It's none of my business what she does,” Garrus muttered, clutching his rifle a little tighter. It was the first time he'd seen her since she _left_ him, and that's what she'd been talking about?

“Goddess, stop thinking with your dick for like three seconds,” Las said, exasperated. “She was trying to communicate with you, wasn't she?”

Insults aside, it did help a little. At least it helped him push down his emotions far enough to think about it more clearly. “You think she was trying to say something with it?”

“Why would she have wasted the opportunity? You said it wasn't really a rescue, right? You were just pinned down, you could have extracted. Do you think she knew that?”

Shepard did know battlefield tactics pretty inside and out. “Probably.”

Las punctuated her words with little shakes of his shoulder. “She went there. Specifically. To talk to you, Archangel. _Probably_.”

“She-” He forced himself to think about it without emotions in the way. No, Las was right, she- “I suppose it could have sounded like she was deferring to Miranda. I don't remember her ever deferring to Pressley, her old XO, and he had _decades_ of experience on her. She was friendly and lenient with her crew, but she was pretty strict about chain of command. Military.”

He still remembered her shouting at Kaidan in the middle of the garage for being too pushy.

“So she'd be deferring to her new XO and telling you about it why?”

“Because Miranda must be Cerberus,” he concluded. “I can't think of any other reason. Maybe the one who's supposed to be keeping an eye on her?”

“If there's a control chip...”

There was only one answer that made sense with the Faith he knew, and it was a little exasperating. “She's ingratiating herself to keep them from using it. Faith's a great liar. I know first hand.”

“I like your Faith, she's smart,” Las said cheerfully. “Smarter than _you_ , for sure.”

“Okay, okay,” he muttered irritably, ignoring the shove on his shoulder. “How much she hates Cerberus would make the lengths she's going to make sense- but this is just a theory, and you can't build a plan or employ tactics against a theory. We need solid proof.”

“So you are going to help her?” Las asked, grabbing his elbow. “I think you should, Archangel.”

It hadn't ever actually been a question- of course he was going to.

Faith needed him.

“I think...” he began uncertainly, and then sighed. He really didn't need to be going into a plague right now, but he needed to get to him before Faith convinced him to leave Omega. “I think I need to talk to Mordin privately. And I think I need to do it now. If he agrees to go with her and can find an excuse to do some scans while on the Normandy, he might be able to confirm if there's anything going on.”

“I'm sure you could at least schedule in five more minutes of brooding if you need it,” Las said, slapping him on the shoulder with a smile.

“Right. Well. There's always time for brooding later. Who's on sec duty tonight?” Garrus asked, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder.

“Sidonis was, but he never showed, so I took over,” Amir said, gravelly voice annoyed. “Again.”

“He's probably just drunk somewhere,” Las dismissed.

“See if you can find him while I'm out, and call everyone in so we can discuss this when I get back,” Garrus instructed. “I'm going alone, don't need anyone else wandering into that plague. I shouldn't be too long.”

“Stay safe,” Las said, lifting his empty glass at him.

“Hey. Who are you talking to here? I'm Archangel.”

Las smirked. “So no.”

“So probably not, no,” he agreed.

There wasn't any part of the plan forming in his head that felt 'safe', but he didn't feel like he had much of a choice.

It was all fucking agony.

Faith kept remembering the way she'd brushed Garrus aside, dismissed him. God, she'd never felt more guilty in her life than she had when he was grabbing at her arm like he was afraid to let go. When it was all a plan it was easier, steps to a goal. But there were _people_ involved, and there was _him_ , and she'd treated him like he was nobody to her.

She felt like a monster.

Balancing the scales a little should have helped, but it really didn't, she was still in a miserable mood.

With the fans going to disperse the cure Mordin had made and the Blood Pack down, Shepard could breathe again, at least. God, there had been a lot of them. And what that Vorcha had been saying...

“What the hell is wrong with the Collectors? Bio-engineering a whole-ass plague just to get rid of anyone who isn't a human?”

“They're weird, they do weird shit,” Jack dismissed, lifting her shoulders in a shrug.

“Still seems like excessive effort to me,” Shepard said, gesturing with her gun, summoning Grunt back. They headed back the way they'd come. “Just like...set up a free pizza booth and drug the pizza. Dig a big pit and cover it with porn.”

“Aren't you supposed to be a master tactician or something?”

“Are you saying it _wouldn't_ work on you?” Shepard countered.

“I mean, it depends on the toppings and type of porn, at least,” Jack said with another shrug.

“Well, I've never had pizza in my life, so,” Shepard said, giving a faint chuckle at the strange look Jack gave her. “I haven't eaten a lot of things. Allergies. We're working on it now that things don't instantly kill me any more.”

“Fun.”

“Yeah,” Shepard agreed, and then gave a sniff. There was an unpleasant tickle in the back of her sinuses that she was way too familiar with. “Shi-”

Stopping short, she sneezed explosively before she could stall it, whole body cringing inward. All over the inside of her helmet. Cursing, she reached up and yanked it off, just in time to sneeze again, this time all over the arm she threw across her face.

“Ew,” Jack said disapprovingly.

“Fuck,” Shepard muttered, wiping her nose with her arm. “At least I can't get the plague?”

As they traveled back to the clinic she could _feel_ her sinuses clogging up. Unpleasant. She hadn't been sick in years, but at least she knew what it felt like. Probably some sort of virus her body wasn't equipped to fight off right now.

Probably shouldn't have taken off her helmet earlier.

Hindsight and all.

About the sixth time she sneezed violently, both Jack and Grunt were giving her a very wide berth. She didn't blame them, but it was a little funny. Unfortunately, any humor died when she walked past the self-assigned mercs guarding the clinic and recognized the figure inside, talking to Mordin. His back was turned to them, but she instantly knew it was him.

Garrus.

The guilt from earlier came back full-force, so painful that she almost let it crack through her facade. But no. She was acting for her life right now, and she had to keep it down. Remember, friendly, a little too aggressive, but distant. Channel your old XO from the Havana.

Easier to do when she wasn't a snotty mess.

The door slid open, and everyone half-turned to look at her. She managed a nod, helmet tucked securely under her arm. “We just keep running into each other, huh?”

“I heard the Blood Pack were moving in on Blue Suns territory and wanted to make sure the doctor was okay,” Garrus said cooly, but he was giving her an odd look.

“That's stand up of you to walk into a plague zone to check up on the doc,” she said, and then blinked at the stares fixed on her. Very curious and intent stares. “What?”

“Your nose is bright red,” Daniel informed her, and then laughed when she gave a frustrated sigh and rubbed at it. “Are you all right, Commander?”

“Viral infection, I'll be fine,” she said with a sniff, lifting a hand as Daniel Abrams turned away for a nearby console. “No, please, I'm fine. I'm immunosuppressed as part of a treatment regimen, it happens.”

“And whatever you're getting treated for is worse than constantly getting sick?” Daniel asked dubiously.

“Yes, actually. But that's not the point. Plague. Cure dispersed. Lots and lots of Blood Pack. Working for the Collectors.” Any further explanation was interrupted by another monumental sneeze, tucked into her elbow.

“Plague engineered by Collectors,” Mordin said thoughtfully, lifting a datapad and scanning down it. “Interesting.”

“That's the working theory. That's why it didn't affect the Vorcha, they were being used to disperse it. But we got it into the systems and all.”

“Plague levels already dropping. Luckily for Archangel.”

“I guess I've got good timing, showing up right when Commander Shepard's saving the day again,” he drawled, still not seeming very concerned. He wouldn't look at her, either. Damn it, she needed him to be acting _normal_ around her.

Hadn't he gotten the message? She thought he had, considering how they spoke before, but maybe he hadn't. But then...

Argh, this was frustrating.

“That's me,” she said, annoyed when it came out all stuffed up. Great. “So Doc-” Her segue was interrupted by her omni-tool, which normally she would ignore, but... “Kasumi,” she said, turning away. “One second.”

The call popped up immediately, Kasumi's soft voice in her ear urgent. “The security on Archangel's base has been compromised. Infiltration is in progress.”

Jerking her head up, Shepard stared at Garrus. “Your people are under attack,” she snapped, already heading for the door. “Kasumi, what is the status of Archangel's people?”

“I alerted them before calling you. I was watching the front of the base, the infiltration is from the back. Orders?”

Garrus surged ahead of her, and she followed him without argument. His omni-tool was demanding attention, and she listened to him answer his call. Jack and Grunt, thankfully, fell in without commentary. As the doors of the clinic slid closed, she could hear Mordin giving orders to his assistant she'd rescued. Hopefully that meant he was following.

“Do what you can to defend them, we're on our way.”

“They were anticipating a slaughter, Commander. We will make it difficult for them.”

“Get to the top, use the staircase as a bottleneck, and shore up whatever you can! Close the shutters, hack in and manually override the security! Reinforcements are coming, just hold out as long as you can-” Garrus was shouting, storming ahead so quickly she had to jog to keep up. Mordin was trailing behind them now. She knew he could likely defend himself. Unfortunately, those might not be the skills they'd need him for.

Hopefully they could hold out, but she knew if this was an ambush, there would likely be casualties.

“Stay in my ear, Kasumi. Stay in my ear,” she ordered, remembering the last time she'd made that order. To Kaidan. Listening to him die. “I'm with you, we're coming.”

“I'm coming, just hold on. Keep them working for it!” Garrus snapped.

He didn't even look back at Faith, but that didn't matter.

She was at his back, and she wasn't going anywhere this time.

Garrus needed her.


	8. Chapter 8

How?

There was no way they could have tracked someone to the base- Garrus had been so damned careful. The security was iron-clad, even he couldn't have taken it down without hours and hours of study, let alone instantly. None of it made sense- and none of it made any difference right now.

Now they just had to get there.

Garrus wasn't sure if he was the luckiest, or most unlucky person alive that he'd chosen to go to the clinic at that exact moment. It meant he had backup, but it also meant he hadn't been here when he needed to be. Damn it, he should have been here.

As they hit the bridge, Shepard abruptly pulled level with him, ridiculously too-small pistol in hand. A hand lifted, turning on a visor he didn't remember her ever using before. Her cheeks were flushed violently red, almost as scarlet as the scars, but it wasn't a time for concern. “I'll go straight to your people. Your command,” she said simply, and then picked up her pace again, flat out running ahead.

He was still trying to process her words when she shimmered out and disappeared- tactical cloak.

Well, it seemed Cerberus had paid for the expensive toys.

“Report!”

“We're pinned upstairs,” Lasina said in his ear, voice more strained by the moment. “We're completely out of medi-gel. I think Amir's gone.”

“Everyone's up there?”

“Everyone left,” she murmured faintly. “I don't know who, except Riva keeps yelling at me to stay awake.”

“Keep talking, Las, you know how much it annoys me. Don't let me off so easy now!” he ordered her as they pelted across the bridge. Foregoing his sniper rifle for his AR, he called back over his shoulder, “we need to head for the upper level immediately for triage and then secure the bottom floor so I can get security back online!”

He could see as they approached that the door was open- all of the doors were opened. A glance up proved that they'd only gotten about half the upstairs shutters closed. A problem. He couldn't trust that they wouldn't send more people if these failed.

Shepard had left him her people- he'd seen them fight precisely once, and that wasn't enough, but it'd have to be. The biotic was all brute force, and the krogan was young. Mordin was older, experienced, he could trust him to follow, but-

“You! Biotic! Whatever you want to call yourself! The tattooed hurricane!”

“That works!” she rasped, out of breath.

“Go through that door and toss anything you see against the north wall, block the exits. Everything, anything! Everyone!”

She surged past him, blue energy crackling around her fists as she headed into the breach. Shotgun in both hands, he called back over his shoulder at the krogan, “I'm going to lay down a blanket fire, anything that tries to get back up, make sure they don't! We need to give Shepard space to get upstairs and save any wounded!”

“Heavy casualties?” Mordin asked.

“No idea. My contact isn't in good shape. She-”

There was a strangled scream in his ear, but the more immediate noise was the chaos from inside. He couldn't leave the biotic without cover. The splintering crash of furniture being thrown nearly overwhelmed everything else, but he heard someone shout in alarm, calling out their approach- at least they were unexpected.

Shepard must still be out of sight- good.

The doorways were all open, which meant as he surged into the shattered lounge he could see the chokepoint at the bottom of the stairs, signs of movement out in that section of the base. The walls were peppered with blast marks, floor a mess of spilled liquor and multicolored blood, a metallic cocktail that burned in the nose. As the biotic released her crushing field, he pulled her back and out of the way behind him, surveying the wreckage. A few shots took down a merc struggling out of the debris.

There were bodies crushed in the mess, but there wasn't time to identify them now. Anything that moved got shot, though he did take the split second he probably couldn't afford to assure they weren't his. At the upper level the shutters had mostly been closed, but he could hear them at the top of the stairs, trying to get through the door.

There were at least five mercs up there, maybe more.

“Riva says...they're preparing for a push, going to bomb the door...” Las said quietly in his ear.

A gesture over his shoulder sent the krogan to survey the hallway to the south, and he flattened himself against the wall to peer down it, massive shotgun in both hands.

“Hold that point, and don't let anything into this room!” Garrus snapped, trusting that the smashed furniture blocking both of the northern exits would slow anything down. There was a shimmer at the eastern end, a figure appearing pressed against the side of the stairwell. Shepard. “I can give you ten seconds!” he shouted.

She nodded silently, and then flickered back out of view.

Arming a disruptor grenade took no time at all, he did it one-handed as he surged across the room to plaster himself opposite where Shepard had, dodging debris and shots. “Las, tell Riva to unlock the door,” he hissed. “Now! Incoming help!”

With a high-pitched whine, the grenade went up the stairs, followed by shouts of alarm. He'd timed it too close for defense- he'd built the damn things, he knew how long they took to arm down to the nanosecond. It hadn't even reached the floor when it went off.

A burst of light and a wave of shocking force was so strong it even staggered him a little- he'd thrown it a lot closer than he probably should have.

Didn't matter, as long as it did what needed to be done.

Garrus gave it three seconds before he bolted up the stairs and started firing, enough for Shepard to get out of range if memory served him. He made it to the top of the stairs just in time to catch the doors closing again. Hopefully that meant she'd made it through.

Mordin had followed behind him, and they'd managed to cut down three of the mercs before they recovered and started fighting back. Taking cover behind a support, he caught his breath for a second. Shit.

Darting across to the other side, dodging fire, he leaned over the edge and scanned the destroyed lounge. No signs of further incursion. A lot of bodies that he could see were mostly mercs. His people had done a decent job until they'd gotten pinned down. The krogan was still holding his point, the biotic had her weapon out, watching the entrance.

Good instincts- of course they had, or Shepard wouldn't have chosen to work with them.

The last of the mercs upstairs went down from Mordin's pistol, and Garrus immediately went for the door. A sweep would have been wise, but he needed to know who was alive. He swiped impatiently at his omni-tool and the door unlocked, sliding open immediately. A rifle swung up to point at his face, but he side-stepped it, grabbing Riva by the arm and pushing past her.

She didn't look great to a cursory inspection.

Nor did the rest of the room, his stomach plummeting. Amir was leaning against a crate, slumped, gold skin ashen, chest unmoving- still holding his gun. Gone. The woman Shepard had called Kasumi was watching the bridge with a rifle in hand. Her arm was bloody, but she was upright.

There were a few covered bodies, an arm flung out from underneath that he identified immediately as Frankie from the pale tattoos on her dark skin. Gone. Las was slumped against the far wall with Shepard hovering over her, ungloved fingers pressing to her throat.

The mangled remnants of her left leg had been severed mid-thigh, blood still sluggishly seeping from the cut. The other end looked to have been cauterized, Shepard's hand smeared in medi-gel and purple blood. She moved aside as Mordin approached, falling against the wall herself, eyes glassy. The color of her skin was starting to worry him, dead white except for the scarlet blaze of her cheeks.

“Triage, sorry,” Shepard rasped, glancing down at the severed leg. “No way we could move her like that. She would have bled out, and she can't afford to lose any more.”

“Correct choice,” Mordin said briskly.

“Archangel, I'm sorry, I did my best. We lost five people barely before we knew what was happening, and-” Riva said, voice tight and brisk. “We withdrew as fast as we could with Kasumi's help, but it was already too late- I don't understand. I checked the sec system myself this morning, I-”

No, Riva was right. He'd checked it himself as well, obsessively. This was someone with access to the security systems, and intimate knowledge of the base.

“Who wasn't here?” he asked harshly, though his suspicions already...

“I- it was so chaotic, I'm-”

“Sidonis,” the name came faintly, Las' golden eyes barely slitting open. Her breathing was shallow, body shaking lightly. “Sidonis never came.”

Into the silence that followed Las' pronouncement, Shepard rose to her feet, swaying slightly. “I'm sorry, but we need to get her out of here and to the ship. Otherwise she's not going to make it.”

Damn it, she was right, but...

“Riva, is it just the two of you? Did _anyone_ else make it?”

“Amir,” she said, and then stopped short as she turned towards his body. Her mandibles drooped. Her subvocalizations turned grim, and self-accusing in a way he couldn't deal with right now. “No. Just us, as far as I know.”

“We got cut off from Denny, he went to ground somewhere in the lower levels,” Las said faintly, and then groaned as Riva picked her up under Mordin's careful supervision. “Shit, it's like I got blown up or something.”

“You've got that in common with Archangel, I guess. He's always getting blown up. Quickest, safest way out?” Shepard asked, heading for the door with a gesture to Kasumi. “We have to move as a group. No one left behind.”

Garrus was going through his comm addresses, moving for the door. “Back lower emergency tunnel, I can't guarantee the way across the bridge is safe, it's the largest exit. I'll lead the way. Denir. Denir, do you copy, are you still with me?”

When they gingerly reached the bottom of the stairs, Shepard gestured the rest of their squad back. With half of them injured an exhausted, splitting up at all was incredibly unwise. They had to trust that any reinforcements would take time.

He was used to Shepard taking charge, keeping the energy up, but she was silent.

That was almost more worrying than Las' state.

Through the shattered mess of the lounge, he led them further into the base, on high alert. It couldn't be guaranteed that they'd gotten every merc, even with the carnage behind them. Every thirty seconds or so he called for Denir, but there wasn't any response.

They were nearly to the exit when the response finally came, faintly.

“Archangel? Sorry, I hit my head when I was retreating. I managed to lock myself in my lab before I passed out, but I think something blocked me in, the door's not responding.”

Garrus stopped short, lifting a hand to his ear. “You're all right?”

“No, I've got a splitting headache,” Denir said irritably. “What the hell happened?”

“Just hang on, I'm coming for you,” Garus said. It wasn't even a choice, there was no way he was leaving someone behind.

A hand grabbed his arm, and he turned and gazed down into Shepard's face. Her eyes were fixed on him, intent, but that worrying color in her cheeks remained. He met her stare, and shook his head. “Go on without me, you can't stall, and you can't spare any people, it's too dangerous. Save Lasina for me, please. I'll be right behind you. I can't leave anyone behind.”

“I know,” she said simply, quiet calm in the words. When she smiled, it was his Faith. Finally. “I expect you at the Normandy shortly, or I'm coming back here and dragging you there myself, Garrus. Do I make myself clear?”

The sound of his name was a strange relief, even in the middle of all this pain and shock that would absolutely crush him later. “Yes, Commander.”

The cuff to his shoulder was bolstering, and she led everyone off, passing by him in the narrow downward-sloping corridor. As Riva passed by him with Las in her arms, their eyes met, and he gave her a nod. “You protect her. Trust the Commander, please.”

“For you,” she said quietly, and then turned to leave. “Hurry up, okay?”

“Right.”

Turning on his heel, he headed off to Denir's lab.

There was only one fire fight on the way back to the Normandy, and it was brief.

For Shepard that was good, because everything after that was a blur. By the time they'd started the assault she'd realized she was running a pretty nasty fever. It was something to be pushed through, but eventually she was just moving by instinct, her brain buried so deep in a fog she was barely aware of who the hell she was, let alone what she was doing.

It didn't matter.

As long as she got back, Garrus would be out behind them, and everything would be all right.

That was the last conscious thought she had before she passed out.

Hopefully they'd made it back to the ship- she had no idea.

An undefinable amount of time later, she swam to consciousness through layers of sticky fog, her eyes aching, her head pounding. Struggling to the surface, the accustomed spike of adrenaline was muffled, but it still drove her off of her back with a groan. The heels of her hands pressed into her sticky, grainy eyes, rubbing violently as her head swam.

She was drenched in sweat.

Breathing shallowly, she tried to catch her breath and still her heart, listening to her vitals going crazy. When something cold was pressed to her back, she yelped, jerking upright and then immediately starting to cough. Ugh, ugh.

“Well, your lungs are clear,” Karin said disapprovingly.

Hacking up phlegm, very much doubting that assessment, Shepard took the tissue that was pressed to her. She folded it and blew her nose afterward, finally opening her eyes. Everything was too sharp and bright, and she squinted against it.

Blowing her nose, everything a bit hazy and wavering in her squinting state, Shepard muttered, “what, did I catch the plague after all?”

“No,” Karin said, and Shepard felt a patch being removed from the side of her neck. “You have what is referred to as the common cold, Shepard. You're lucky it didn't turn into pneumonia.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” she muttered, and then blew her nose again. The light was becoming bearable, and so she slowly opened in her eyes. Unsurprisingly, she was in medi-bay, and it wasn't only Karin staring at her, but the female turian she vaguely remembered from Garrus' base. Didn't recognize her brilliantly white clan markings- she must be from one of the colonies.

Riva was her name, that was right.

She was glaring at Shepard, arms folded.

“Are we going now?” she asked brusquely.

“Going?” Shepard asked, glancing around the medi-bay again. The injured asari was in the other bed, and she appeared to be awake as well, but still intubated. A hand was lifted in Shepard's direction, and she returned it. “Did Garrus get out okay?”

“No,” Riva said. “Archangel's pinned down. He and Denir didn't manage to make it back before reinforcements, so they choked all the exits and are defending the bridge. So when are we going?”

He-

The fucking-

“Now,” Shepard said without further thought. “I'm not leaving him, Karin. I'm sorry. How long have I been out?”

“Almost fifty hours,” Karin admitted, not even flinching under Shepard's disbelieving stare. She busied herself removing Shepard's IV, which appeared to be fluids. “Is there a particular part of severely immuno-comprised that you did not understand, Faith?”

“It's a fucking cold!”

“Which you are not equipped to defend against! I'm aware you are going to go regardless of what I say, I'm not trying to prevent you. Now calm down,” Karin replied, turning away for the counter. “Give me a moment to prepare your medication.”

Growling to herself, Shepard brought up her omni-tool, sending the call and then removing the vitals patches from her chest. Damn it, her stupid body had failed her again. She just couldn't win, could she?

She made the call audible, for Riva's sake.

Shepard's gratitude was overwhelming when a familiar voice crackled to life, weary but still there. “Have a nice nap?”

Thank god, he was alive and sarcastic.

“Yeah, you know me Vakarian, I love to take my down time. Status?”

“I could use a nap myself,” Garrus said, chuckling roughly. “Can't really afford to, though. I guess I pissed off a few too many people.”

“What are you facing? Will an assault from behind cut through it?”

“Negative, they're building forces. I've done the impossible- I seem to have gotten the gangs of Omega to work together.”

“Hell, Vakarian, I always knew you were talented.”

“I cut down enough that they've hunkered down- probably prepping for a push. We've got the downstairs peppered with proximity mines- Denny's specialty, but if they've got the manpower to just keep throwing bodies at us, not much to be done.”

“Infiltration and sabotage it is. Lucky for you, that's my specialty.”

“Stop,” Garrus ordered. An actual order, which was surprising enough that she shut up. “That's too much of a risk, and I can't assess the situation for you from here. I don't know what you're walking into.”

“Vakarian, I made you a promise, and I'm going to keep it.”

“I guess there's a first time for everything,” he said, and then before she could protest, he cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“Well, you're having a slightly rough day...s,” she said, ignoring the sting. She couldn't engage with that. Couldn't let out any sign of their previous relationship. “I'll go see if Aria has an eye on the situation. You're holding out for now?”

“Yeah,” he said, but she could hear the strain underneath. “The only way in's the bridge, I have everything else choked out or locked down now that I have control of my systems again. Tell Riva to stay behind with Las for me, please. I wish I could guarantee that they won't recognize her, but I can't. We were betrayed.”

Shepard glanced sidelong at Riva, who had gone very still. “Understood, Vakarian. Sit tight, help's on the way.”

Despite the fact that she wanted nothing more than to stay on the call with him, Shepard hung up. Had to remember she was back in enemy territory now, it wasn't time to slip up. Not when he needed her so much.

“I'm sorry, Riva, but the call's been made. It's probably best if you stay with her, anyways,” Shepard said, nodding to the partially-conscious asari.

“I know how to follow orders, and I don't want to endanger Archangel or Denir,” Riva said, but she could hear the frustration in her voice. “You're going to get them out, right?”

Shepard took her medication as Karin passed it to her, something syrupy and unpleasant-looking. “You're goddamn right I am,” she said, and tossed back the liquid.

It probably would have sounded cooler if her nose wasn't stuffed up.

“Thank you, ma'am.”

The words were sincere, and any hostility in the stare was gone. Shepard blindly took the next dose Karin passed her, not even bothering to look at what it was before tossing it back. She trusted the doc.

“Hey, just doing my job. Savin' the day,” Shepard said with a smile. Lifting a hand to her ear, she brought up the ship's comms as she gestured and headed for the door. “Joker, tell me something I like.”

“Helmet, Commander,” Karin reminded her mildly.

Shepard acknowledged with a lifted hand as she headed through the door.

“Short supply right now, Commander. Glad to hear you're up,” Joker rasped in her ear. “You sound like shit, though.”

“Thanks, Joker- I'm sick, what's your excuse? I'm heading out to get him. Has there been any signs of interest in the ship at all?”

“Negative, Commander. Looks like you got out of there without drawing attention. At least, attention as far as Omega's concerned. People bleeding in a gutter is probably just Tuesday.”

“Point,” Shepard said, heading into the mess. There were people there, which probably meant it was around a mealtime. Her brain busy, instincts took over and she headed for a cabinet, pulling it open and yanking out a ration bar. A quick glance to check the ingredients- shit, cinnamon. Was she allowed to have cinnamon?

Rather than risk it, she tossed it back in and grabbed a vanilla one.

“Commander,” the Mess Sargent said disapprovingly as she ripped it open.

“Sorry, Gardener, no time!” Stepping back and around, she scanned the table. Just engineering. She up-nodded Donnelly and Gabby, smiling tensely at the curious greetings in return.

God, who should she take? Kasumi had been injured, she thought she remembered, so maybe she should summon Jacob, and-

Speak of the devil.

Miranda's office door slid open and both of them stepped out, in the midst of conversation. Miranda stopped short, surprised, but Jacob immediately saluted her. Shepard still hadn't broken him of it yet. Waving it off, she addressed him quickly, “go get geared up and ready to go now, Jacob. We've got a turian to save.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, but paused when Miranda interrupted.

“Shepard, do you think this is wise? You've been incapacitated for days, and you've only just regained consciousness. It would be better to step back and assess-”

Shepard was supposed to defer to Miranda. Let her think she was in charge, keep her off guard. But damn it, there was a limit, and Garrus was in danger right now. The condescension in Miranda's voice killed any hope Shepard had of letting her continue.

“Jacob, you were given an order. I'll overlook the slip-up this time. Go,” Shepard said crisply, and then turned her attention to Miranda as he hustled off. “Your concerns have been noted. You won't be required to take part in this mission, since you have reservations.”

Miranda looked genuinely shocked. Shepard didn't blame her, it was the first time she hadn't let herself be walked all over. “Commander Shepard, I-”

“ _I_ don't leave a man behind when there's any other choice, Miranda. That's all,” Shepard said, turning on a heel and stalking off. Hopefully it wouldn't cause too much trouble. She wasn't going to risk Garrus' life for her playacting, even if it was trying to protect herself. Lifting a hand to her ear, she called Joker again. “Where's Doctor Solus?”

“Tech lab, I'll patch you through.”

She waited a couple seconds, and then cleared her throat. “Doctor Solus, would you be recognizable to the various gangs of Omega?”

“Possibly,” he said crisply, instead of asking her why or what. She liked that. To the point.

“Understood. Carry on, I'll take someone else,” Shepard said, ending the call. Shit, who to take, then?

She was still considering it when she was hustling to her locker, and rapidly running out of time. At least, she was until she realized Kasumi was there next to Jacob, strapping on her weapons. Amused, but annoyed, Shepard headed for her own loadout.  
“I didn't call for you.”

“I'm at my best,” Kasumi replied simply. “I have had time to sleep and recover, Shepard. More than you.”

“It's not polite to spy on me on my ship,” Shepard said, more amused than annoyed. “But I admit that if we're going to need to infiltrate this...gang coalition, it'd be welcome.”

“Sorry about that, Commander,” Jacob said, aside.

“This is what I do for people who serve under me, Jacob. I'd do it for you. Vakarian might not be my best buddy, but he fought next to me, and I won't abandon him,” Shepard said, strapping on her pistols and letting her locker slide closed. “Besides, he's in this mess because he wouldn't leave one of his men behind. I respect that.”

Damn it were her sinuses ever clogged, and she felt gross as hell. Swampy. Hopefully it didn't affect her focus and aim too much. She was definitely not at her best, Kasumi was right.

The pills in her belt were there, though, if they proved to be necessary. It'd be far from the first time where she'd fought at sub-par levels. Noveria came to mind.

And she'd made it then, and she'd make it now.

Defeated by a cold? No way in hell.

“Come on, let's go see if Aria can give us some intel,” she ordered crisply, pulling on her helmet. “These bastards won't know what hit them.”

_Hold out, Garrus- just a little longer._

_I'm coming._


	9. Chapter 9

Navigating her way through the merc encampments, Shepard was beginning to feel more grateful for EDI.

She understood Joker's issues with the AI, and it was a _Cerberus_ AI so obviously not trustworthy, but damn she was handy to have around. And really, it's not like she got to _choose_ who made her. Not like anyone got to choose who made them.

When she put it that way, Shepard felt a bit more sympathetic.

“The heavy mechs and gunship possess considerable firepower. Weakening them will before leaving will improve your chances considerably,” EDI said quietly in her ear.

“That's what I like to hear,” Shepard muttered, resisting the urge to call Garrus. Not yet. She knew he was still up and all right. The batarian merc that had met them said he was starting to make mistakes, though, and that had her worried.

He hadn't slept in probably three days at this point- she had no idea what turian tolerance was, but everyone needed sleep.

No one seemed to give two shits about the freelancers, which was great for her- she just wandered around like a dumbass poking her nose into things and no one batted an eye. A datapad she discreetly hacked into had some very interesting info on it- she was sure Aria would love to know the gangs were plotting against her, too. Aria didn't seem like the kind of woman that let that shit fly.

After locating and discreetly letting Kasumi hack a mech to turn on its own people, they did a bit more reconnoitering. The temptation to just open fire from this end was there, but she needed to get to Garrus' back- she couldn't trust that he'd be all right if she started a war in the middle of the three biggest gangs on Omega. Also, she might die.

So there was that.

The gunship was a problem. 'Sargent' Cathka of the Blue Suns was hovering over it, and while she could take him out, hiding the body would require more time than she could afford. Again, it wasn't time to start a war. It was time to get to Garrus, and get him out.

“Doesn't look like Archangel's got much time,” Jacob said aside to her as freelancers passed by them.

She took one last look at the gunship, and then cursed and followed, leaving it behind. As far as Jacob knew she barely liked Garrus, so it wasn't time to snap at him for the commentary. As much as she wanted to. “Then I guess we'll have to hurry if we want to get in on the fun.”

Confidently, she drew both pistols and headed through the maze of reinforcements and nervous freelancers for the bridge. Cruel, sending them out here to be fodder. She knew how good Garrus was, this was practically just free shots for him. Like a personal shooting gallery.

As she stepped out onto the bridge, she could see he'd opened all of the shutters at the top of the base, which was likely wise. It'd help keep him from getting pinned down. Still made her nervous, him being exposed so much. She could see as they started across some of the freelancers had gotten across the bridge- she wouldn't open fire until they could get inside, then.

“Not yet,” she ordered, and then startled as a bullet cracked into the bridge next to her. Frowning, she took to cover and brought up her omni-tool. The call went through, and was immediately picked up. “H-”

“Just saying hi,” Garrus drawled in her ear, and she reluctantly laughed. Damn he sounded tired, though.

“Honey, I'm home,” she said mockingly, poking her head around cover just in time to watch a freelancer that surged past her get downed with an always-impressively accurrate shot to the skull. “I almost feel bad for them. I can see someone setting up explosives just inside the entrance. I'm going to hold my fire until I get to them.”

“Wasn't sure you were going to make it back.”

There was something in his voice that hurt, a hint of resignation. Damn it, no. They were getting out of here. She wouldn't leave without him.

“I've decided to take up the mercenary lifestyle. They're counting on me to make way for an infiltration team, so we need to be prepared for that. Status?” She leaned over and took a couple potshots in Garrus' direction. None of them would hit, of course.

“There's some people trying to get through the door. Not sure how many, my line of sight is cut off. I've got a few minutes, because there's no way they're as good as I am.”

“I'll take out the explosives and clear the way to the door, then. We're moving on three.” Needed to warn him- she didn't know how into his reflexes he was right now, wouldn't want him to take a shot on instinct.

“Copy that, Shepard.”

She gestured to Kasumi and Jacob, who had taken cover across from her, and they all surged forward, darting up the bridge. The merc setting up a bomb glanced up as they bolted through the entry, and he barely got out half a syllable before she took him down. Two shots to the skull, clean and quick. They deserved that, at least.

“Tell me that thing's not armed,” she snapped at Jacob, moving past it without stopping.

The lounge had been semi-cleared from its earlier state of chaos, the bodies of the mercs they had killed in the first assault gone. Thrown off the bridge, she assumed. What hurt, though, were the bodies that had been laid out and covered. Damn it.

If only they'd been able to save more of his people.

She hated what he was going through right now, and being unable to even comfort him.

“Disarmed!” Jacob called back.

By the time he caught up to the second explosive near the stairs, she and Kasumi had picked off the few mercs that had gotten past Garrus. Shepard wasted no time, she surged up the stairs and cleaned out the rest- admittedly a bit reckless, but her shield had barely fallen before the last one did.

She could feel herself straining when she breathed and, already apologizing to Karin in her head, she had to pull off her helmet to cough and spit. Ew. Who the hell knew a cold could be so goddamn annoying?

“Not sounding too great, Shepard,” Garrus commented in her ear.

Damn it, she hadn't hung up the call.

“That's not a nice thing to say to the person saving your ass, Vakarian.”

“Spitting's a nasty habit.”

“Would you prefer I swallow?” she asked before she could stop herself, and then reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose as overwhelming embarrassment overtook her. Kasumi's faint laugh from behind her was not reassuring, nor was the fact that in her moment of chagrin she heard the door open.

Damn it, why was the banter so easy?

“You got that out of your system?”

She supposed she should have been grateful for the distance in his voice. It was her that'd screwed up, not him. But still, it hurt a little even knowing it was probably the best way he could have reacted. Trying to control her miserable blushing, she just nodded, not looking at him as she pushed past him into the room.

“They're going to know their attempt failed soon,” she said. At least Jacob hadn't witnessed that, he caught up as they entered the top level to overlook the bridge.

“Yeah. Working on a plan, but right now it's basically just 'wait for a crack in the defenses and make a break for it',” Garrus said, thankfully taking pity on her and moving towards the side facing the bridge, putting some distance between them. “It's not much of a plan, but it's what we've got.”

A quick scan of the area proved that he was alone up here- shit. Denir must not have made it. Another thing it wasn't time to bring up- but it made her heart ache to know what he'd been going through.

“We should be able to hold them off for a decent amount of time, considering we've just quadrupled your forces,” Shepard said, strapping on her pistols and pulling around her assault rifle.

“Easier now that everything but the bridge is cut off,” Garrus agreed. “I managed to convince Denir to slip out the back while I was covering him. Hopefully he made it out safely.”

Relief flooded through her. “I'm sure he's fine.”

“I'll try to contact him later. Right now,” Garrus lifted his rifle and scanned across the way. He passed the rifle back towards her, and she strapped her AR back on and took it, scanning through the scope.

“Scouts. Eclipse, I think.”

“Seems like they're looking for dance partners,” she said, scanning the armored figures heading for the bridge.

“Well then, let's dance,” Garrus agreed, taking the rifle back from her. “I'll stay up here, I can do a lot of damage from this vantage point. You...you can do what you do best.”

Shepard nodded, though her instincts were screaming at her to say something quippy. Jesus, it was practically a reflex. She hadn't considered how difficult it would be around him. “Jacob, go down to the first floor and hold the entrance, keep a three-sixty eye as much as you can,” she ordered.

“Aye aye, ma'am.”

Shepard glanced sidelong at Kasumi. “Seems like a waste of time to take the stairs, doesn't it?”

“Inefficient,” she agreed.

They both moved for the edge. It would have been cooler to just take the jump, but Shepard was far from at her best right now, and her desire to show off was hampered by the knowledge that she might make an idiot of herself. So she turned on the tactical cloak as she hopped up onto the ledge.

And then she took the drop in the safest but least cool way, sliding off the edge and dangling before the drop, landing in a roll.

Kasumi probably looked way cooler doing it.

Damn it.

Shepard even staggered a little as she got back to her feet, lungs protesting the move. It hadn't even been that far of a drop! Twenty feet, tops. Ugh, she needed to spend more time in the gym.

“Glad to see you've found someone as crazy as you are,” Garrus said in her ear.

Hyper aware of Jacob armed and at her back, Shepard headed immediately for cover, surveying the situation. Garrus had already taken down one of the scouts. Between her and Kasumi and some well-timed headshots, the rest went down before making it to the end of the bridge.

Eventually the mech was dropped in, and she heard Garrus curse in her ear.

Flattening her back against a support, cloak dropped, Shepard glanced up towards the top level. “Stop! Don't shoot the mech, it's on our side.”

Garrus laughed, surprised. “That's the best news I've heard all day.”

“Hey!”

“Second best,” he allowed with a chuckle. A good, familiar sound. Garrus muttered under his breath, “come on, you slimy little bastard, where are you?”

With the help of the mech, they managed to cut down another wave of Eclipse. She was almost starting to feel confident when she heard Kasumi call out her shield dropping from further up the bridge. Cursing, Shepard pushed up, ready to go defend her, and came face to face with a salarian. Too close.

He was swinging up his gun when she lashed out with a foot, sending him staggering back. Running on instincts, she spun the kick into a second one, aiming for his pistol. She impacted with her heel, cracking into his hand, sending the pistol flying over the edge of the bridge. Grabbing her weapon with both hands, she started putting distance between them, firing.

Needed to get far enough for Garrus to take the shot.

“Shepard, get down!”

She didn't even question the shout in her ear. Throwing herself down flat on the ground, she heard the plasma round go over her, crackling and impacting somewhere behind her. Garrus took the shot.

From her prone position, she watched the body in front of her crumple.

Shepard let out a quavering breath. “Thanks for having my back, Garrus.”

“Any time. Looks like we've got a second to breathe.”

“Falling back,” Shepard agreed, taking Kasumi's hand as it was extended down to her, heaving to her feet. “Friend of yours there?”

“That was Jaroth. Local leader of the Eclipse. I thought I came here for the Blue Suns, originally,” Garrus said, sounding a little more confident now, but still tired. They needed to get him out of here.

She gestured Jacob in after her as they headed back up to meet Garrus. “You weren't?”

“Turned out it was the Eclipse that was shipping tainted eezo all over Citadel space. The Blue Suns were just using it to make red sand. That shipment you helped me take out, his top lieutenant was in charge. His brother. Guess I'm not surprised he banded together with the other mercs after that.”

“No, I suppose not,” Shepard agreed, finally making it to the stairs. She went for the edge where Garrus was leaning, sighting through his scope again. “What are they up to?”

“They've reinforced the other side. Heavily. That could put a damper on our retreat. Might have to blast our way out through the lower levels I blocked off-”

As if timed perfectly to his words, there was an explosion. Shepard gave Garrus a very tired look, which he returned with a baffled lift of his brow plates. “What?”

“The _irony button_ , Vakarian. Jesus Christ,” Shepard said, grabbing her pistol.

“Right, right. I forgot that tends to happen around you. You'd better get down there, Shepard. If this is a pincer attack, I've gotta stay on the bridge,” Garrus said, voice tense as he headed back for the ledge.

“Two and two,” Shepard contradicted, nodding to Kasumi. “Stay here with Garrus. Jacob, on me.”

“You sure, Shepard?” Garrus asked, and returned the nod she gave him. “Thanks. Head for the basement door behind the stairs, the one we left through before. The security shutters need to come back down again, and once you do I'll disable them from up here.”

Shepard nodded and retreated without a further word, switching out her pistol for her assault rifle. It wasn't time to get precious, it was a time to mow these bastards down. She could feel another coughing fit coming on, and tried to swallow through it. Ugh.

“Vakarian knows what he's doing,” Jacob said, and he actually sounded impressed.

“Yeah, he's gotten better than I remember,” Shepard said, and then jokingly added; “I'm sure Miranda will love hearing how right she was.”

“I'm sure she will,” Jacob laughed.

They headed into the basement, fighting back the Blood Pack push to get the security shutters down again. There were a lot of them, but from the sounds of it, she'd made the right choice to leave Kasumi with Garrus. It wasn't an easy fight, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise- in clearing the way through to get to Garrus, they'd given them more options to retreat than across the bridge.

The third shutter panel went dark as soon as she got it closed, as Garrus disabled it. “They're coming in through the doors!”

“On my way back! Do what you can to hold them off!”

Slapping Jacob's arm, she headed back at an all out run, as much as she could in her current state. Hacking into her arm, feeling her lungs strain, she bolted back for the upper level. No, she couldn't falter, not right now.

Bursting back into the lounge, she started firing immediately, skidding around the side of the stairwell. The fight was too close for comfort, and she saw Jacob immediately put some distance and find himself cover. No, she wasn't going to stick down here. Vaulting over the side of the stairwell, she ignored the shout behind her and started firing as she bolted up the stairs, taking down a vorcha at the top.

With a vantage point, she could see into the top level now, and down at the bottom. It wasn't ideal, but the hell if she was going to lose track of Garrus. Precision and perfection were out the window in her current state, so she stuck with her assault rifle and grim determination instead.

“How many got past me? I'm holding the stairs!”

“We're pinned down! Garm made it up...but he's not running this time,” Garrus said in her ear, harsh and focused.

“If he tries he'll get to deal with me,” she promised, taking aim at a krogan Jacob had set on fire and blasting him down. “But I'm here, at your back. The instant you need a distraction, I'm through that door.”

“I think we've got him. You just keep any more from getting to us while we do.”

Shepard snorted. “Unlike you, I don't steal kills.”

“Liar.” His voice was so comfortable and reassuring that she wanted to melt into it, let her guard down. But- no. Not yet. Not now.

“Hell, you know me, Vakarian.”

“Yeah, I do.”

That was coming dangerously close to her banter threshold, let alone her 'just semi-friendly old colleagues' threshold, so Shepard dropped it there, saying nothing further. Maybe she should have been a little clearer on the whole 'act normal' thing, because now she was remembering what her and Garrus' normal _was._ Dangerous.

Hell, they'd practically started flirting the moment they met.

But thinking about that was for later- it made her think about Emi, and that was the one thing she could _not_ think about right now. She didn't know how far Cerberus would go. She couldn't trust them- at all. And while Shepard could protect herself, a little kid couldn't. Besides, she probably had a whole new family now.

The idea that it'd been two years hadn't really sunk in, but it was starting to.

Seeing what Garrus had been doing helped re-orient her.

Somehow one of the varrens managed to get past Jacob to make it to the stairs. All teeth and screeching, it came straight for her. It shocked her out of her navel-gazing, forcing her back to reality with a sudden slap to the face. What was she doing?

Instinct took over since her brain was on vacation, and the varren got a snap kick directly to the needle-toothed face, sending it head over ass back down the stairs. She followed up with her rifle. By now she'd seen enough of them get back up once she thought they were dead to trust anything. Hardy motherfuckers.

Damn it, she was slowing down.

“Garm's down!” Garrus snapped in her ear, sounding victorious. “Now I've just gotta make sure he stays that way.”

“Wouldn't want him to run again,” she agreed, lowering her rifle as Jacob did the same. “That would be _so_ embarrassing for him.”

There was a burst of rapid fire from the top.

“Glad to have saved him the trouble.”

“How are you doing for medi-gel?” she asked, gesturing Jacob back up the stairs and heading in to regroup.

“Found a kit while I was closing things up, I'm gonna be just fine. I think they've stopped.”

Emerging into the room, she took a quick scan, briefly glancing across Garm's corpse on the floor. Kasumi looked intact, flickering out of view once Shepard gave her a nod. Garrus didn't look more than scorched, either.

“Finally took out Garm and his Blood Pack. This day just keeps getting better and better,” Garrus said approvingly, chuckling at her shake of the head. “Granted, the circumstances are less than ideal, but-”

“I was thinking maybe we should work our way through the basement and get out, but I don't know how much surveillance you still have up,” Shepard said, hefting her rifle over her back.

“Not enough, any more. Too risky to go blind,” Garrus denied.

“Well, if all that's left is the Blue Suns, a full on assault might be the way to go, then,” she said, heading for the front to survey the bridge. “We should be able to cut through without-”

The sound of glass shattering was a signal that skipped her brain and went straight to her muscles- Shepard dived behind cover, slamming herself up against the wall. Everyone else hunkered down as well. She barely had time to register what it was.

“Damn it, I thought I took that thing out!”

The gunship.

Shit, maybe she should have done something about it after all. “Status!”

“Blue Suns, coming in through the window!”

Strapping her rifle back on, she grabbed both of her pistols and turned on the tactical cloak. Bolting out of cover, she headed for the shattered window. A merc trying to take cover went down from a headshot as she bolted past him. More were attempting to surge through the breach, but a well-placed kick knocked one of them off the ledge, breaking her cloak and sending him hurtling down with a scream.

“Gun fight, Shepard! Gun fight!”

She darted to the side, taking a position against the window. Rather than admit her head was starting to get a foggier, and her aim wasn't at its best, she just shouted back, “jealousy's not a great look for you, Vakarian!”

Another merc surged in, and she took her shots, knocking down his shield with pistol blasts so Garrus could take him out- another body toppling through the opening and falling. It was a good thing it was still so effortless for her to fight with him, because she needed it right now. Memory flowed in through her muscles, bypassing her muddy brain.

The last one fell, the gunship sending a crackle of shots across the space as it moved.

“They're rappelling down the side wall! Ground floor!”

“Keep this level held!” she retorted, bolting for the stairs despite her protesting lungs. By now her throat was so dry she could hear the crack in her voice, but that was fine. Swallowing heavily, she skidded down the stairs at high speed, flicking on her tactical cloak.

Jacob was good, Jacob knew what to do without her barking orders every three seconds like you had to do with a big squad. All the Alliance training was there in the bones. It made her feel more secure despite her own shortcomings.

One by one, the Blue Suns went down, but she was starting to falter. Ducking behind cover, she finally gave in and yanked off her helmet, grabbing the pills out of her belt and clapping them to her mouth. Down dry, they stuck painfully in her prickling throat, but she swallowed them down repeatedly until they went. She saw Jacob eye her out of the corner of her vision, but he didn't say anything.

Jerking her helmet back on, feeling the discomfort of the pills in her throat, she went back to the fight. It'd kick in soon. One of the mercs got in far too close, sending her shields down with a well-placed shotgun blast that had her staggering back. It only proved that she was slowing down.

He still died, but her pride was wounded.

No time to focus on it, though, because an explosion rocked the base.

The strangled cry in her ear had her moving before she even knew what had happened.

No, no, no.

_No._

“Cover me!”

“Aye aye, ma'am!”

She skidded up the stairs, adrenaline cutting a vicious path through the sludgy sensation in her body. Now wasn't the time for weakness. Garrus was crumpled on the ground, scorched and motionless, the gunship in the window- no time for checking his pulse, she just had to have faith he was alive.

Throwing herself bodily between him and the gunship, she dropped her pistol and whipped her rifle around, starting to fire. No way in hell she'd let him get another _shot_ on Garrus. Not while she was still standing.

“Shepard, take cover!” Jacob shouted.

“Find me some!” she snapped back at him. “I'm not fucking moving!”

Her shield crackled, she could feel the barrage of shots quickly whittling it down, until it broke. Holding her ground, she continued firing, ignoring the hits she was taking. She couldn't feel a thing right now but the rage.

Not a fucking chance!

She wasn't letting him go, not when they'd gotten this far!

There was a crackle, a rasping clatter from the gunship, and Shepard's head jerked up to catch Kasumi frantically working on her omni-tool. “Weapons overloaded! Thirty seconds at best!”

Darting away from Garrus, Shepard grabbed onto the crate Jacob was straining to move and lent her back to it. It wasn't great cover, but it was something. Dragging it between Garrus and the window, she collapsed against it. One foot slipped as she pressed her back to the crate, smearing blue blood across the floor.

There was a pool of it under him, and spreading.

“Talk to me, Vakarian,” she plead, leaning around the edge of the crate and taking a few more shots at the gunship.

One blue eye, unfocused, unseeing, opened behind his visor. “Faith-” It cut off in a rattle, a cough that quickly turned into a gurgle.

No, no, they were running out of time.

It took mere seconds to connect to the Normandy- seconds she had to take. “Joker! Shuttle! Load up both the goddamn doctors and whatever triage materials they need and have them get as goddamn close to me as they can! No time for talking!”

“Aye aye!”

She refocused on the fucking gunship, putting everything she had into cutting it down. It was a longer fight than it should have been, but she was counting the time in seconds, in heartbeats. Every single one of them pumped more blue blood on the floor.

“You're here, I'm here,” she found herself repeating to him encouragingly. “I'm getting you out. I'm getting you the fuck out of here.”

She'd broken promises to him before- this one she wouldn't.

When the gunship went down, there was no time for celebrating. As Jacob darted back towards her, she was gently turning Garrus over, medi-gel at the ready. He was a mess, like he'd taken the explosion directly to his face. Despairing, she smeared the medi-gel through it, trying not to touch anything that might have been moved, but trying to stop the bleeding. They couldn't move him while he was bleeding like this.

“Shuttle's getting as close to you as it can! Commandeering the Kima District air transport station!”

That was where they'd gotten in to the district with the Blue Suns- she knew the way.

Garrus was trying to say something, but he was choking on it. She shushed him desperately, getting him under the arms as Jacob moved to help her. Between them, propping him up on their shoulders with one over each, they both lifted him. His head lolled forward, blood trickling out of his mouth.

He tried to say something again, she could feel the rumble in his chest, but all that came out was a cough.

“Shut up,” she ordered him, fighting back the tears that would give her away. “Shut up, you idiot. I _told_ you to stop getting blown up.”

Half dragging him, they raced for the shuttle.

Every footprint she left was bloody.

Garrus woke up slowly, painfully.

The instant he did there was attention on him, hands prying open an eye to shine a light in it. He winced audibly, and he heard a faint sigh. The hands released him, apart from a small, brief squeeze on his shoulder.

“Not the nap I wanted,” he muttered, hearing his voice catch.

“Well, it seems you're still with us,” a familiar voice said, amused and exasperated. “Young man, how many times do I have to put you back together?”

Doctor Chakwas was here.

He felt himself instantly relax- it meant he was safe, then.

“Probably at least once more,” he said, letting his eyes open properly. Everything swam for a moment, and then came back together. Damn, his face hurt. “Status?”

“Everything is...more or less there. We managed to save your mandible with some surgery and a little cybernetics to replace what you lost,” Doctor Chakwas said, returning to his field of vision, reaching for his shoulder again. It was good to see her face. Unfortunately, the attempt at a smile just fucking hurt.

“Ow.”

“That's what happens when you take a rocket to the face, Garrus,” she said briskly. She took his hand, turning it over and removing the tube from the IV between his wrist-plates. When she brought around a new one, he made a sound of protest, lifting his other hand.

“I want to get up.”

“Do you know how much blood you've lost?” she scolded. Her voice was odd, slightly faded in one ear. Maybe from more than the patch up. Hopefully he hadn't lost too much hearing. “Garrus, you need to be resting.”

“I feel fine,” he lied, pulling up to a sitting position slowly. Ouch. Yeah. That was all going to hurt a while- his neck felt like hell even despite what he assumed were pretty strong painkillers. “I need to debrief, I need...”

He scanned the medi-bay, but didn't see anyone else.

“Are they here? Did they leave?”

“They're eating,” Doctor Chakwas said, exasperated. “Lasina will be fine after some recuperation, but she needs to see a specialist to decide what she wants to do about her leg. We'd already be on our way to Citadel, but the Commander insisted we wait.”

“Wait? Why?”

“She is waiting for you, Garrus. To be well enough to decide for yourself if you'll be staying on the Normandy or no,” Doctor Chakwas said mildly.

She didn't know? Or was this some kind of game, to see what he'd say? How the hell did she think- after all that- that he'd _let_ her go without him?

“Well, I'm sure not leaving my people on this ship while I go back to Omega,” he said, turning his legs to slide off the table, ignoring the sigh of exasperation. “Where's the Commander? I'll go talk to her.”

“The Commander is currently located in the briefing room,” a pleasant voice informed him from above.

“Thank you, EDI,” Doctor Chakwas said, approaching and gesturing for his arm. He lifted it, and she busied herself taking the needle out of his wrist. “EDI is the ship's AI. Not something I'm accustomed to.”

“An AI,” he said, slightly disbelieving. Damn, Cerberus really did have the expensive toys. “Well, at least it can show me where to go.”

EDI spoke again. “I would be happy to. What is your preferred mode of address?”

“Garrus is fine,” he said. Okay, this was a little bizarre, but he could work with it. “Thanks, Doctor, for saving my life.”

“The Commander deserves that honor, not I,” Doctor Chakwas said. “All I did was patch you back together again. She got you out in time.”

He could vaguely remember her, yelling at him to stay awake, her voice fading and echoing in his mind. Scolding him. He lifted a hand, trying to examine the damage, but he stalled himself at the last second. Maybe he didn't want to know just yet.

What he needed right now was to see Faith.

He could hear people talking, but he avoided them for the moment, following the AI's instructions. The ship seemed nice enough, maybe a little bigger than the SR-1, and he was definitely going to need to take a look through it later. Once the assault had began, he knew he'd be leaving with her. She'd done everything she could to help him, and now she needed his help.

He just needed to assess the situation.

Whatever game Faith was playing, he could try to play along. It was strange, but if what she needed right now was to keep him at arm's length to stay safe from Cerberus, that was fine. Hopefully Mordin was starting to make plans. They'd have to find somewhere safe to discuss once he was settled.

She'd gotten him out, and now he had to return the favor.

The doors the AI led him to slid open, and there she was. Leaning against a table talking to the soldier he remembered from the siege, they were conversing together. His voice trailed off as Garrus entered, and he straightened up.

“Tough son of a bitch,” he said, voice impressed. “Didn't think you'd be up yet.”

“Well, I owe it to you guys,” he said, stepping in and offering his hand, not quite glancing at Faith yet. “It was...”

“Jacob Taylor.”

They clasped hands briefly. “Garrus Vakarian. Thanks.”

Jacob nodded and released him. “It was rough, glad we could get you out.”

Abruptly self-conscious, he lifted a hand to his face again, not quite touching. “They wouldn't give me a mirror. How bad is it?”

It wasn't really to Jacob, and he felt a little embarrassed that he was so worried. He'd never been vain, but he was also aware that it wasn't something he'd ever had to worry about before. Aesthetic scars were one thing, but this felt a lot worse.

Not really a great way to finally face his ex...whatever they'd been.

“Hell, Garrus, you've always been ugly,” Shepard said cheerfully, with that slightly off briskness he remembered from their first meeting. The fake Faith voice. “Slap some face paint on there, and nobody will be able to tell the difference.”

It still made him laugh, and that hurt like hell, a hand lifting to his face. “Damn it, don't make me laugh. My face is barely holding together as is.”

“Eh, if it falls back off, we'll just stick it back on there,” she said with a shrug, rolling her shoulders. “Maybe now I'll have half a chance with the ladies when we hit the bars.”

“I wouldn't go that far,” he scoffed. “Ladies _love_ scars, Shepard.”

“Krogan ladies, maybe,” she said, crossing her arms and flashing him a small grin. “You got a minute to talk serious?”

“That's what I'm here for- and the witty banter,” he said. He still couldn't quite look at her, but he knew it'd take practice- didn't trust himself not to slip up and give her away. “Doctor tried to strap me down, but I'm wily.”

“Taylor, could you give us a minute?”

Jacob saluted crisply, and headed off. Garrus watched him go, vaguely amused. “Awfully military for Cerberus.” It might be time to start trying to get his bearings. Figure out where her head was at, how she wanted to play this. “I haven't heard great things, Shepard. I know I was a little harsh before, but...are you sure about this? Cerberus?”

“Jacob was Alliance. A decent amount of my crew was. It seems that more people believed me than I realized,” Shepard said. When he finally hazarded a sidelong look, she was braced with both hands on the table, staring down at it pensively. “Cerberus brought me back to life, Garrus.”

It stalled him. He'd assumed she'd been injured, but- “Dead? You were actually dead?”

Fighting to leave it at that, he let his voice trail off. A million things he needed to ask, but he couldn't. He knew she was compromised. Couldn't forget it, not for a second.

If he did they might find a way to get rid of him.

She nodded her head slowly, dark eyes distant. “Two years. I was dead. Two years gone like- nothing. They tell me that it was a different branch of Cerberus that pulled all that shit we dealt with. I guess I get that.”

He didn't, and she doubted she actually did either, but... “Well, hell, if they brought you back, I get why you're here.”

“It's not really about that, though I'm obviously happy to be alive,” Shepard said with a sigh. She reached up a hand and rubbed the back of her neck, tiredly. “But the Collectors- they're kidnapping human colonies. Whole fucking colonies, Garrus. I need to figure out what's going on. I understand that you've been through hell, and it's too much to ask you to walk back into it with me, but...

“I had a checklist, we finished it. Might as well keep being useful,” he said casually. “Besides, Doctor Solus' here. You might need a translator when he gets going.”

“Hmmh, yeah,” Shepard said with a faint laugh that trailed off into silence. “I'm grateful you're on board. I know we didn't always see eye to eye, but it's good to have someone familiar at my back.”

At her back...

Despite the complications, the pain, all the anger he knew was still there- somehow despite everything, that was the only place in the galaxy he wanted to be.

“Might as well stick around,” he said casually. “The doctor said you saved my life. I should probably try to return the favor.”

She glanced up at him briefly, and their eyes met for the first time.

Faith smiled, eyes averting again. “I'm sure an opportunity will present itself sooner or later.”

“It usually does.”

He needed to talk to Mordin.

They had plans to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I hope yours will be splendid.


	10. Chapter 10

“Shit, what did you do to your _face_?!”

Trying not to grimace, Garrus fended off Las' hands, pushing them away in self-defense as he settled down at the table next to her in the empty mess. It was strange being in a new Normandy, his memories of the old ship were so vivid. He wanted to retreat somewhere to regroup, but Las was here alone and he couldn't leave her. “Could you not?”

“Archangel, your face is the only thing you have going for you!” Las replied, grabbing his shoulder with both hands instead and giving him a light shake. “You're going to starve in the streets now.”

“At least I'm not a one-legged dancer,” he deadpanned, and then laughed when she slapped his shoulder, rocking in place. It hurt, and he cut off quickly, lifting a hand to his face. “Damn it.”

“Oops, sorry,” she said penitently, resting her temple on his shoulder, on top of her hands. “It was scary watching them haul you in here. You okay?” Her voice was suddenly heavy.

They'd been through a lot. The bodies...damn it, he wish he'd been able to do something more, but... “I need to be, there are things to do,” he said, leaning down and bumping his forehead briefly against hers, a small platonic gesture. “Are _you_ okay?”

“No, I'm angry,” she said, arms wrapping around his upper arm. “Absolutely furious. The worst part is Riva keeps saying 'well maybe it wasn't him' and making excuses, and I- I get that she's just the kind of person who trusts people, and I don't want to yell at _her_ , but...”

“We both know it was him,” Garrus said, the anger that he hadn't had the energy for when fighting still there, rising back up as he was reminded of it. “It couldn't have been anyone else. I'll find him. I promise you, I'll find Sidonis. We're going to make him pay for what he did.”

She stared up at him for a few long seconds, golden eyes focused and intent. Finally, she nodded. “Good. I'm glad we were able to fight back long enough for backup,” Las said soberly.

“I would think you would be- since you're not dead and all.”

“No, I meant,” Las paused, letting out a long sigh, arms tightening. “I'm glad for you that we survived. I really owe Shepard and Kasumi one. Oh, I got a message from Denny.”

Rather than think too much about what she was trying to say, he clung to the new topic of conversation. “Let me guess...”

“He's out. Going to take his credits and head home, something about investing in his family's lab,” Lasina said. “Probably going to go study new ways to blow people up.”

“Sounds about what I expected. Maybe he'll pass us anything fun,” Garrus said. “What about you two? You decided what you're going to do about the leg?”

“I'm more worried about getting rid of the scars. I don't want to go through the hassle of getting a new leg grown,” Las said, which he wasn't very surprised to hear. She didn't really do 'sitting around'. “I'm probably just going to get a really fancy cybernetic leg. If I decide to get a new one made later, I can, but for now I don't really see the point in being down for a couple months.”

“No hard feelings that Shepard chopped it off?” Garrus asked.

“No. It had to be done,” Las dismissed, and then gave a long sigh. “I don't know what we're going to do. Do you need us?”

“I'm going to be sticking around here. I think it's better if you two aren't onboard a Cerberus ship,” Garrus said, well-aware the place was probably bugged, even though he hadn't scanned yet. “I think you should take a frame from Denir's vid. Take your credits and start over.”

“Riva's going to take that hard.”

He'd known Lasina would get it- she was an asari. They were used to living their lives in stages and moving on. Riva was different. She was one of those people that made the glue that held groups together, and he knew how much she was going to be torn up about losing everyone.

“She has you.”

“Yeah, she does,” Las agreed with a softer smile.

“Where is she, by the way? I didn't think you two would be doing much wandering on board.”

“Fell in love with the AI. Pestering it at the core,” Lasina said, and then laughed. “To absolutely no one's surprise. I listened for a bit, but it was getting into the esoterica around using AI for security purposes and I started passing out from sheer boredom so I rolled myself back out here to enjoy the local color.”

Sounded like a conversation he was disappointed to miss, but he wasn't in the mood right now. “We're taking you to Citadel for your treatments. Do I need to bother the Commander about anything, legality-wise?”

“Nah, we're both clean with the authorities. C-Sec isn't going to be waiting at the docks for _us_ ,” Las said, getting an impish glint in her eye as she peered up at him. “After all, we're not defectors, _Garrus Vakarian_.”

He winced, and then regretted it when the pain followed. Of course she'd been digging. “You don't defect from C-Sec, you resign. Which I did. Twice.”

“Washed up ex-cop going rogue vigilante. It somehow makes it even better,” she teased, laughing at his long sigh. “Does that make me the stripper with a heart of gold?”

The 'washed up ex cop' may have been accurate, but it still stung. “First, you're a _horrible_ person, and second, I'm fairly sure if you _start_ the dance without clothes on, it's not stripping. Does your great-niece still work at Chora's?”

“Yeah, we're going to stay with her, I called her,” Lasina confirmed. “Until we figure out where we want to go. I'm not fussy, I assume Riva will finally accept that she was born to be a security contractor and she'll get scouted by some corporation to fend off salarian spy attacks or whatever.”

“She's too damn smart for that,” Garrus grumbled.

“And that's why she'll make the big bucks. You know she won't go back to the military, she's still pissed. I would think _you_ of all people would get that! Or are you going back to C-Sec?”

“Yeah, not even my father's getting me back in after what I said to the Executor when I resigned the second time,” Garrus said grimly, shaking his head. At Lasina's curious look, he laughed despite his mood. “I'm not proud of it, I'd rather not talk about it- felt good at the time, though.”

“It always does,” Las sighed, leaning more heavily against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his.

“There you are! What the hell, you come on board, you don't even say hello? I know you got blown up, but Jesus, Garrus, there's such a thing as manners,” a voice said from behind them. He hadn't even heard the guy approach- damn, maybe his hearing _was_ damaged.

“I'd turn my head but my neck is screwed right now,” Garrus replied, extending a leg and kicking out a seat. “Here, welcome to the table of the injured. You'll fit right in. Joker Moreau, Lasina-” There he paused. “I don't actually know your last name.”

“You never asked,” she said, finally relenting in her death grip on his arm. She turned her curious stare on Joker, head tilting. “Lasina T'Vera-Vasiliev. Las for short.”

Joker settled down slowly into the chair, and Garrus couldn't help the instincts that had him keeping a close eye on the guy. He wasn't using the arm crutches any more, which was good. He'd been in rough shape after the Normandy crash.

“Vasiliev?” Joker asked, giving her a curious look, thumbing up his hat.

“Yeah, my dad was human,” Las said with a little smile. “It was important to her that someone carry 'the family name', which mom didn't get but- I like it. It's nice to stay connected with both sides, you know?”

“That actually explains a lot about you, you're as annoying as most humans I know,” Garrus said musingly, ignoring the slap on his shoulder as he turned to Joker. “How you doing? Looking about as bad as I remember.”

“And you look worse,” Joker replied, shaking his head. “Really Garrus? What were you trying to do, catch the rocket in your teeth?”

“Something like that. But hey, killed the leaders of the Blood Pack, Eclipse, and I assume Tarak ate it, too, since I'm still alive. Not bad,” he said, glancing down at Lasina. He wanted to smile, but couldn't. “We finished the checklist.”

“That whole station is going to be _crawling_ with Talon now,” Lasina said, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

“Aria's problem now, not ours,” Garrus dismissed. “We did enough cleaning house for her that I feel like sending her a bill.”

Las scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

“Commander sent her a message- apparently she found intel that they were planning to turn on Aria next, so...I mean, you might not be that far off,” Joker said, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward. “Shepard was pretty clear that Aria owed _your_ crew, not hers.”

Of course she had been.

“No shit,” Las said, giving a faint 'huh'. “It might be worth a shot.”

“You don't need money,” Garrus said, exasperated.

“What, did you find a way to make anti-crime pay?” Joker asked. “Figured you only came back on board for the free food.”

“Yes, because the dextro rations on human ships are just the _best_ ,” Garrus said sarcastically.

“Archangel- sorry, _Garrus_ \- had a nasty little habit of draining the cred accounts of the mercs we killed, on top of selling their gear,” Las said cheerfully. “We all made some decent money.”

“Maybe I threw my hat in the wrong ring,” Joker said, but Garrus could hear the slight bitterness underneath it. “Thought I guess I wouldn't have been much use, huh?”

“Yeah, the best pilot in the galaxy? Who'd want that kind of person on their side?”

“Really? Best pilot in the galaxy, huh?” Las asked.

“Damn right he is,” Garrus said.

“Okay, but theoretically...how do you feel about getaway driving?” Las asked Joker with a little grin.

“I thought you were the good guys,” Joker said, but his voice was easier now. Lasina had a way of doing that.

“They are. Me? I'm an agent of chaos,” Las laughed. “I only signed up because I was bored, and then they sucked me in with the whole do-gooder thing. The only reason Archangel didn't boot me out was because I was the only person brave enough to smack him upside the head when he was sulking.”

“I don't sulk,” he protested, not bothering to deny the rest.

“Sounds accurate to me,” Joker said.

“I'm not-” He cut off as a figure wandered around a corner uncertainly. Always a bit funny to see how awkward she would get- Riva was tall even for a turian, even a little taller than him, and she was still fully armored with her usual expansive array of weaponry strapped on. He assumed it was Shepard's interference that it was allowed on a Cerberus ship. Seemed like something the Faith he remembered would do. “The humans aren't going to _eat_ you, Riva!”

Las snickered, pulling up from his arm at long last and extending a hand. “Come on. What, did the AI kick you out?”

“No, I just finally noticed you were gone,” Riva said sheepishly, but her eyes were fixed on Garrus, eyes widening. “Oh wow. Sorry, but- well, I knew it was bad, but-”

“Riva,” Las chuckled.

“She might as well get it out of her system,” Garrus said with a sigh, trying to cover up the sting of it with humor. No one was really making him feel better about it, especially not Shepard's admittedly funny, but painful comment. “Everyone else is.”

“I can't tell the difference,” Joker told him in direct contradiction to what he'd said earlier, with a half grin.

“I don't know if I want to be on a ship with a pilot whose eyesight is that bad.”

“Tough. I'm the only one who flies for Shepard,” Joker said, rolling his shoulders in a shrug.

Riva settled down next to Las, who transferred her arm-clinging to her girlfriend instead. A common occurrence- but he'd noticed she was hanging on a little tighter than usual. Probably not feeling as well as she claimed to be. He got that.

Sometimes you had to joke around to keep the pain from getting worse.

“So is that how you two know each other?” Riva asked, and then lifted her unclaimed hand to Joker. “Hi. Riva Sartellius.”

“Joker,” he replied, folding his arms. “Yeah. We were on the first Normandy together. I'm surprised Shepard brought you back on board, Vakarian. You two didn't exactly get along.”

Joker's voice didn't change, but Garrus knew exactly what it was- a warning. Riva looked a little confused, but apart from a sidelong glance, Las' expression didn't change. She knew what was going on. He was glad she understood not to say anything.

He couldn't forget that this ship wasn't safe.

“We don't have to get along to fight well together. At least she respects me, and I respect her,” Garrus said, fighting the urge to lift a hand and touch his injuries again. “We don't have to be best friends. She helped me out when I needed it, and I'm not about to let a debt like that hang over me.”

“Well, good to see familiar faces either way,” Joker said, and then leaned back in his chair, arm slinging back. “Yo! Commander!”

Cursing his inability to turn his head properly, Garrus did his best to lean back and look over. She was standing just outside of the medi-bay, changed into a high-necked, long-sleeved shirt and leggings. He'd never seen her so covered up outside of armor before.

“Just going to get my medication and daily treatments like a good girl, and then head for a work out,” she replied, giving each of them a nod, with a smile for Riva and Las. He noticed her eyes skipped past him, and tried not to let it bother him, but, well...all of this bothered him. Everything just left of normal while they were pretending it wasn't.

“You never stop working out,” Joker said with a snort.

“Yeah, being dead for two years is hell for muscle tone,” Shepard said with a shrug of her shoulders. She cracked a smile. “Hey, Joker, if you're here, who's flying the ship?”

“Shit!” Joker said explosively, throwing up his hands.

“Mister Moreau, I am currently monitoring our trajectory, there is no reason to be concerned,” the AI spoke up.

Joker let out a sigh, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose. Shepard laughed, and it sounded so much more like _her_. Garrus shifted his attention back away from her, feeling the twinge of his neck. Just because he knew why she was treating him differently didn't keep it from hurting.

“EDI, I believe that was meant to be a joke,” Riva said, attention flicking between the medi-bay and Joker. “It was, wasn't it?”

“Yes,” Joker sighed tiredly.

“Not a fan?” Garrus asked him, already knowing the answer.

“You could say that.”

“They'll be pals in no time,” Shepard said cheerfully. “Lasina, Riva, we'll have you two on Citadel in eighteen hours. Please let me know if there's anything else I can do for you. EDI can connect you to my comms at any time.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Riva said bashfully.

“Citadel...you prepared to face the consequences, Commander?” Joker asked with a sarcastic rasp.

“I have no idea what you're talking about, it was an honest mistake,” Shepard said, sly, and he heard the medi-bay door open and close.

Garrus turned his attention to Joker curiously. “What did she do this time, flip off the Council?”

“Cerberus assigned her a therapist masquerading as a Yeoman,” Joker chuckled, crossing his arms. “She pried a little too much, so Shepard sent her on an errand on Citadel and we left without her. Kind of a dick move in my opinion, but that's Shepard for you. You know how she hates people poking in her head.”

Except she didn't, and that didn't sound like Faith at _all_.

The only time she'd left any of her people behind was because she had no choice. Which meant she'd felt she didn't have one. Self-preservation? Or maybe she was worried a trained therapist would see through what she was trying to do.

Just one more thing that made him entirely certain there was something genuinely wrong with Shepard.

“Hi, Doctor Solus!” Las called, lifting a hand.

“Greetings,” the clipped, familiar voice said, and then he heard the medi-bay doors again.

Some of the tension in the pit of Garrus' stomach faded away.

It'd be all right.

Whatever was wrong, they'd fix it- as soon as they got to Citadel and out from under Cerberus' thumb, they could start making plans.

Shepard watched idly as another series of pin-prick injections were carefully labeled down the side of her arm. At least they were working their way down from the full-back tests. This was much less irritating. She couldn't decipher any of the labels, but-

“So we're moving down from like...specific fruits and veggies to pollen groups?” she guessed. A few decades of being neck-deep in her own medical problems made it pretty navigable.

“Correct,” Karin said, discarding another of the injectors. “Unfortunately you're still reacting severely- for your current immune status- to the genetic allergies, but that was anticipated.”

From his observational vantage, Mordin gave a faint 'hmm'. “Human gene therapy well-developed, if not always successful.”

“I am concerned that triggering her genetic allergies will make her system reactive towards the exposure therapies,” Karin explained, picking up the next sharp and uncapping it. “Shepard's case was so severe that she set precedents- she was born premature in unexpectedly sterile environs, and raised the same. Actually, she's the reason it's not considered inadvisable to give children nutrient paste as a form of nutrition. It prevents their bodies from being exposed to allergens they need to build a healthy immune system.”

“Interesting,” Mordin mused. “When did non-genetic allergies first become apparent?”

“When I went planetside for the first time in my life- when I was five, my grandfather retired from the Alliance, and I was sent to spend three months with him while my mother took a supplementary training,” Shepard explained, laughing faintly to herself. “He took me out for my first burger and fries ever after he picked me up from the spaceport and we ended up in the emergency room. I'd been on-planet for less than three hours. Potatoes did me in. I don't even remember what it tasted like.”

“And Cerberus rebuilt Shepard, but did nothing to mitigate issues?”

“Miranda said genetic tampering was 'forbidden',” Shepard said, sourly thinking about the shit they _had_ put in her. What a stupid bit of reasoning. Then again, it was Miranda who had interpreted the rules- maybe she'd done it deliberately. “The two years with no immune system did do a lot. Wiped out maybe a third of my allergies completely. I have the chance to actually re-train my body from the ground up.”

“We are making excellent progress, even if Shepard's suppressed immune system causes its _own_ problems,” Karin said, eyeing her severely.

“I got it, I got it. I'm lucky I didn't get pneumonia,” Shepard sighed.

“Cybernetics are purely medical, or also enhancements?” Mordin asked.

“Purely medical, I believe,” Karin said.

Shepard lifted a hand self-consciously to her cheek. She hadn't been honest about how much the scars bothered her, but Karin had been working on them a little bit. They weren't as bad as they had been. “I feel weaker, not stronger, but that's inactivity.”

“Interested in seeing if gene therapy possible, but will require samples for testing, and scans to see extent of cybernetics to anticipate interference. Acceptable, Shepard?”

“Oh, I mean- would it interfere with your work on the seekers?” Shepard asked uncertainly, glancing between the doctors. Not that she wasn't interested, but... “I'm less important than the mission.”

“Multitasking is efficiency. While running calculations a second task will keep the mind busy,” Mordin dismissed.

“A second pair of eyes can't hurt, Shepard,” Karin agreed mildly.

“I mean, sure. Karin, you have my scans, right?”

“Specialized scans required. If Commander has time, can be handled now.”

Specialized scans, but he already was prepared for them? Obviously he was a genius and all, and maybe her brain in its survival mode paranoid state was drawing too many assumptions...but did that mean he'd been planning to scan her cybernetics? If so, did that mean her messages had all gotten through and Garrus had somehow- no, no, she couldn't make assumptions.

She had to keep planning like she had been, presuming that all Garrus knew was to not to act weird around her.

“If it's all right with the doc, it's okay with me,” Shepard agreed.

“Perfectly.”

She got the rest of her pricks, and then downed her cold medicine and daily doses like a good girl. Shepard did note that the one she was pretty sure was the turian allergens was not being given to her today. Considering that Karin kept making her stress-test after taking it, she presumed it was because of the cold- she wasn't breathing great anyways. Well...rude.

Fine, she'd have to stay healthy, then.

Once she'd taken it all, she laid down and let Mordin do his scans, mind racing. How could she communicate anything? For all she knew he knew nothing, but she had to at least keep planting more seeds in the hope that something would spring up. When he finished scanning, she sat up and began idly rubbing her temple.

“Headache again?” Karin asked sympathetically. “The medication for your cold should help with some of the discomfort.”

“Headaches?” Mordin asked her.

She flashed him a faint smile and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Every now and again, they're not bad, but they're always in the same place.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and damn she wished she could read his, but it was impossible. Salarians were even harder than turians. Especially this one.

“Interesting. Possible malfunction. Will look into it,” Mordin said, nodding his head as he turned away. Without another word, he left the medi-bay.

Karin watched him go, expression thoughtful, and then shook her head. “No cardio today, please.”

“But-” Shepard protested, cutting off at the reproving look she was given. “Understood. Stretching and strength training okay?”

“As long as you're careful and listen to your body. We're already having issues with you getting sufficient calories with your new diet, and you know combat stimulants affect your appetite. I will be monitoring your caloric intake. Rebuilding muscle takes a lot.”

Shepard let out an explosive sigh. “Okay, okay, okay. I am behaving.”

“There's a first time for everything,” Karin said, not bothering to hide her smile. “Come back in thirty minutes, and don't forget-”

“The vitals patches while I'm working out. I won't,” Shepard agreed, sliding down and heading for the door, pulling down the sleeve of her shirt carefully over the pin-pricks. It was probably better to leave them exposed, but damn it she just hated all the scars.

When she exited the medi-bay, everyone was still at the table, chatting easily. It bothered her. Isolating herself was necessary, but she was so damn tired of it. The facade took up so much energy, always being on guard, always choosing what to say and how to say it.

The more time she spent around people, the more likely she was to screw up.

But all she wanted was just to let it all go, shrug off the shield and be herself. Beg Garrus for forgiveness, complain to Joker, call her mom, confide in David...figure out what happened to Emi, but she couldn't. It wasn't safe. Not until she'd gotten free of whatever shackles there were inside of her. If she couldn't get free...

What was she?

If her body wasn't even hers, was she any better than a thing, a tool to be used?

Miranda kept saying that the Illusive Man wanted her to be Shepard, only Shepard, but they'd removed _choice_ from her. How could they not understand that doing so directly went against her ability to be herself, to be-

“Umh, Commander Shepard?”

Pausing halfway across the mess, blinking and dragging her brain out of its contemplations, she met the very serious gray eyes of Riva. She let her charming political smile snap into place, tilting her head. “Sorry! Thinking about what I need to get done. What can I do for you?”

Riva stood, and extended a hand towards her. “I just didn't get a chance to say thank you before, ma'am. So...thank you.”

Without hesitation, Shepard stepped in and clasped it, giving a small nod of her head. “Hey, good guys gotta look out for each other. I'm glad we could help.”

“I wanted to thank Kasumi as well, but...”

“She'll appear when you're least expecting it, don't worry,” Shepard said, giving Riva's hand one last squeeze before releasing her. It was hard to look at him directly, but she could _feel_ the look Garrus was giving her, so finally she laughed and glanced at him. “What?”

He nodded down at her hand. “Shouldn't you be more careful?”

Shit. This was going to be super douchey. But this was something that if her highest hopes proved to be true...he needed to know.

Steeling herself and shoving down all her emotions behind the shield, Shepard flashed him a quick smile and shrugged. As if it wasn't an issue that they'd screamed at each other about, that she'd suffered and sobbed over... as if it meant nothing, she told him...

“I'm not allergic to thulium any more. Being dead's good for something!”

Turning on her heel, she walked away before she could see his reaction.

She didn't want to know how much she was hurting him.


	11. Chapter 11

Garrus had to admit, the tech on the new Normandy was even better than the original- and the original had been cutting edge.

He'd decided to bunk down in the battery. Nothing against the crew quarters, but on his 'tour' of the ship courtesy of EDI his scans had proved that practically every corner of the damn ship was bugged. Of course it was. At least he could keep the battery clear.

He could have just hacked them and not caused too many problems.

He didn't, he removed them.

It took about four hours before he was confronted on it. He didn't expect it'd taken that long for them to notice- he couldn't imagine from what he'd heard that Miranda didn't keep a close eye on everything. He'd been looking forward to meeting her.

Sarcastically, of course.

“I'm telling you, this isn't the SR-1. You've got the heft for more of a weapons system now. I know a guy on Omega that knows a guy who can get his hands on the new Thanix.”

“I think I heard _of_ it,” Joker said, uncertainly.

“They reverse-engineered Sovereign's gun, it's-” The door opened, and he glanced open as a dark-haired human woman entered. “We'll talk about it later. I'm just saying, if you're going to fly something this bulky, you might as well put some extra firepower on it. We don't want a repeat.”

“You're not wrong there. Talk to the Commander about it.”

“I told you so you'd talk to the Commander about it,” he replied, and ended the call on his omni-tool, attention fixed on it.

The woman cleared her throat after a few seconds.

“Your bugs are over there on the console,” he said without glancing up, still reading over the information EDI had given him on the javelin missiles. Interesting toys. “Should still be functional if you have something else you want to spy on. I did my best not to break them during removal.”

There was a few seconds of silence, and then he glanced up as she walked past him. Remembering Shepard's comments on Omega about the woman, he took a longer look than he would have otherwise. He supposed she would be considered attractive for a human. The outfit didn't leave much to the imagination.

“My name is Miranda Lawson, I am Commander Shepard's second in command,” she said, picking up one of the small electronic transmitters in two fingers and turning it over. She glanced back over her shoulder at him. “It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad I was able to convince her to bring you onboard.”

Her voice was friendly and easy, and he supposed she was trying to be pleasant with that statement, but all it did was annoy him.

“I'm here to return the favor Shepard did for me,” he said, turning his attention back to his omni-tool. “Not a fan of Cerberus. And they're not a fan of me. You know.” He lowered his voice as if it was a secret. “I'm turian.”

“Cerberus is seeking the advancement of humanity just as other races seek their own advancement. There is nothing hateful or unique about our goal,” Miranda replied crisply, but still pleasantly. “We're simply honest about it.”

Yeah, right.

“Sorry, I'm not really interested in converting religions,” he replied dismissively, still staring at his omni-tool, scrolling idly. “I'm not here for Cerberus. I'm here to be at Shepard's back and shoot the bad guys. That's what I do.”

“As I said, I am the _reason_ Shepard went to recruit you.”

He glanced up briefly, keeping his voice neutral. “Shepard does what Shepard wants to do.”

Miranda smiled. Still trying to be pleasant with him. “Shepard respects my guidance and advice. If there's something you need for the ship, I just want you to know that you can come to me if you don't feel comfortable going to her.”

“Thanks so much,” he drawled slowly, not bothering to hide the sarcasm this time.

And, because this was possibly the worst time for Shepard to walk in, that was exactly when she did. Towel slung around her neck, cheeks flushed pink, she had an easy smile on her face that faded as she stepped in, voice trailing off. “Joker said you needed...” Her attention shifted to Miranda. The smile widened. “Hey! I didn't know you two were chatting.”

“I was just introducing myself,” Miranda said pleasantly.

But...her voice was odd. The entire mood in the room had shifted the second Shepard had walked in. Miranda instantly sounded a bit more arrogant, condescending in a way she hadn't been with him, but also more standoffish. And Shepard...

The instant Miranda turned her attention to Garrus, she was staring at Miranda's chest. Not even subtly. She was eyeing her like someone five drinks deep looking for a back alley hookup. It made him oddly uncomfortable. Shepard was a lot of things, but sleazy wasn't one of them.

“Yeah, she was just introducing herself,” he agreed flatly, doing his best to sound disinterested. “And picking up some electronics I removed. You all right with be bunking down here?”

“Uh,” Shepard said, and then rapidly averted her eyes, blinking at him. Because he was watching so intently, he noticed the fact that she waited until a second after Miranda had looked back in her direction.

Now that he was aware that Shepard was specifically choosing to act weird, he was starting to catch on to it easier. It still felt wrong and upset him, but he could at least look at it objectively and try to map what sort of battle plan she was trying to go for. At least as objectively as he could.

He _really_ didn't like Miranda now.

“Yeah, sure, wherever you want,” Shepard dismissed with a flip of her hand, voice too cheerful. “So what was that about a...gun or something?”

“I'll leave you to it,” Miranda said, inclining her head to both of them and turning for the door.

He watched Shepard, not her as she left. Shepard watched Miranda's ass, until the door closed, and then she glanced back at him, smiling sheepishly. “So umh...gun. Do you need to hit the armory on Citadel? I can ask Miranda for a budget, or...”

“Gun for the ship, not for me. I'm still good with what I've got,” Garrus said. It wasn't _just_ his bitter, complicated feelings that had him swinging the rifle over his shoulder, into both hands. Her eyes flicked down to it, and he watched her intently.

He _needed_ some sort of reassurance right now.

Shepard had a pretty good poker face, but not that much of one. He saw the instant she recognized it, eyes softening, and then flicking away uncomfortably. Garrus refused to look away as she got control of herself again and let the mask slip back down. He needed to know that's what it was.

That she was still in there.

“Pretty old, you sure you don't want an upgrade?”

“It was a present,” he replied, slinging it back over his shoulder. Some of the bitterness and- well, Las was right, jealousy- faded away. Just the tiniest bit of comfort. “Besides, I'm constantly modifying it. No. Thanix. Some weapons engineers on Palaven reverse-engineered Sovereign's weaponry and are producing miniature versions of it for smaller ships.”

That caught her attention, genuinely, their eyes meeting as her face lit up. “No way? I mean, hell to the yeah if we can swing it. You can get your hands on that?”

“I know an old merc on Omega who can get me in contact with someone who works smuggling tech out of that particular company,” Garrus admitted, and chuckled when her eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. “Or I suppose we could find a way to go through legal channels.”

“Eh, overrated,” Shepard said. “Can you make contacts, let me know what we're going to need to get our hands on it and to get it retrofitted on?”

“I could probably handle the installation. Be easier if Tali was here, but-” He stopped at the abruptly pained expression on his face, and his voice immediately gentled. “What? Hey, F-” Realizing what he was doing, he cut himself off, clearing his throat. “What's wrong, Shepard?”

“Nothing, I,” she averted her eyes, and he could hear her trying to control her voice as well. “Tali declined to come on board.”

Damn it.

He knew how much that would have hurt her, but the pain was already gone, and she was smiling with a rueful shrug. “What can you do, huh?”

“Yeah. Not much, I guess. I'll make the contacts and see what kind of budget we're going to need. How long are we going to be on Citadel?”

Shepard shrugged. “How long do you need? I don't plan to leave the ship, but whatever time you need, you can have. We have to dock for at least six hours to pick up a delivery, but that's it.”

“Six hours should be fine, but I'll let you know,” he said.

Suddenly things were a bit awkward, and he didn't know if it was just him, or her as well. She wasn't looking at him, hands twisted around the ends of her towel as she stared off to the side. He cleared his throat. She let out a long breath, vibrating her lips.

“I should-”

“I was going to get back to-”

A million things he wanted to say and couldn't were filling the air, practically choking him.

“Yeah,” Shepard said simply, turning around. “I should probably eat something before Karin buzzes me.”

“The ah-” He'd been so angry before, and it still hurt now, but if she could be casual about it, he could too. “Allergies. Cerberus fixed that, huh?”

“Not really. Just having no immune system and starting things over helped. Karin's got me on a regimen now to try and get rid of the non-genetic ones. It's...uh, complicated, I guess,” Shepard said, strained for a few seconds. Then her voice went fake and flippant. “All sciency bullshit, who even knows. I don't listen to doctors, they never stop talking.”

“I'm sure Doctor Chakwas appreciates that,” he said sarcastically.

“Ah, whatever, you old stick in the mud,” she dismissed, turning and heading out with a wave. “See ya!”

Shepard's departure wasn't a casual walk.

It was a retreat.

_Just give me a little longer, Faith._

Garrus' dislike of Miranda, as irrational as it was, seemed to have solidified.

It wasn't just the superior attitude, or the way Shepard was around her, or even the fact that she worked for Cerberus. It was all of it, put together. Her personality just grated on him. Everyone else on the ship he had briefly met, surprisingly okay with despite them working for a human terrorist organization. Maybe that was because they all seemed more on board for Shepard than Cerberus, and he appreciated that.

Her, not so much.

After dropping Las and Riva off at the hospital he'd considered wandering a bit, but being on Citadel had just made him uncomfortable. Even foregoing proper food, he'd just retreated back to the ship before he saw someone familiar. When he'd grabbed his rations he'd assumed that he'd be alone. Everyone else had escaped to the station. Not Miranda, though.

He was surprised she deigned to sit with the common folk at all, let alone across from him at the table. There were plenty of other seats. They ate dinner in silence. He wasn't sure what she was hoping for, but he'd be damned if he was going to give it to her. She glanced up at him now and again, but he ignored it.

When Mordin arrived, it was a relief. He approached the table, but didn't seem to be sitting down. “Vakarian.”

“Doctor?”

“Heard we have time. Thought we could get a drink, like on Omega. Time-honored ritual, after all.”

A lie.

Mordin must have found something. Glancing down at the remnants of his food, Garrus pushed up from the table, nodding his head. “Absolutely.”

“Where were you going to go?” Miranda asked, as if that was an innocent question.

“Uncertain,” Mordin said. “Data on Citadel regarding quantity of alcohol available for smallest cost currently inconclusive. Requires in-depth study.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Garrus said with a shrug, rising to his feet. “Sure can't beat Omega on that front, that's for sure.”

“Theories require data.”

“Enjoy yourselves,” Miranda said, sounding as if she'd lost interest.

Disposing of his dishes, Garrus followed after Mordin. He waited until they were long out of earshot of Miranda, keeping his voice casual. “Mind if I invite Joker? Been a while since he's gotten out, I think.”

Hopefully Mordin knew he wouldn't invite anyone who wasn't 'in' on things.

“More male company increases bravado and possibility of foolish choices. Excellent idea,” Mordin said.

Damn it, was he trying to make Garrus break? Hiding a smirk, Garrus forced himself back to sobriety. Reaching the bridge, he left Mordin at the airlock and headed for the front. “Joker! We're going to get a drink.”

“Eh, I don't know, Garrus...” Joker said, swiveling in his chair to face him. “Not really feeling it.”

“Come on, it's been too long,” Garrus replied, fixing him with a very focused stare. “Won't be more than a couple of hours. Besides, Shepard said if we needed more time on the station, just to contact her.”

“Well,” Joker said, and then raised an eyebrow at his tip of the head. “I mean, if you insist.”

“I do. Don't worry, we'll rent an air car. Not too much walking.”

“Fine, fine,” Joker sighed, heaving himself up slowly. “This chair's too comfortable anyways, going to start fusing with it if I don't move around more.”

“It's a pretty nice chair,” Garrus admitted, glancing it over. Seemed like they'd made more allowances for his issues than the Alliance had, at least.

They left the ship in silence, not bothering with the pretense of chatter. Joker seemed to pick up the mood, but he was obviously anticipating something. Garrus just followed the doctor's lead, trusting him to get them somewhere safe where they could actually talk without the possibility of interference. Mordin called an air car rental at the transport kiosk, and they climbed in.

“Shepard is clever,” the doctor said, the instant the doors were closed. He set a destination without looking.

“So there is something wrong,” Garrus surmised. “Glad I asked you to do some scans, then.”

“Wait, what? Is this actually some kind of strategy meeting?” Joker asked from the back, glancing between them.

“Sorry,” Garrus said, glancing back at him carefully, still feeling a slight twinge in his neck. “Can't talk on that ship. How are you doing? You're all right?”

“I mean...not really,” Joker allowed. “I'm doing my best to just shut up and trust her, but Faith's acting really weird and I'm starting to get worried they fucked with her head or something. The whole talking in code thing? Not my favorite. It's cooler in vids.”

“One of my– we thought Cerberus might have implanted a control chip,” Garrus said, glancing over at Mordin. “I would love to hear we were wrong.” Shit. Now was not the time to be thinking about Amir and everyone else. Guilt was for later.

“Yes, incorrect. No control chip,” Mordin said simply.

It was a relief, but... “There's still something wrong.”

“Yes. Implanted optical transmitter, aural transmitter. Optical in her temple, aural behind left ear. Extensively wired to Shepard's nervous system. Difficult and painful to remove, may cause lingering issues. Also several tracking devices. Studied scans extensively to confirm the lack of control chip.”

Barely a reassurance.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Joker said.

The idea made him absolutely sick. The scope of it sinking in, he said, “they see and hear everything she sees and hears.”

_Faith._

“If theories are correct, Shepard is likely acting out of expected perimeters due to being spied on. Understandable.”

Mordin might consider it 'understandable', but Garrus knew how much she valued her autonomy, how much deeper it went for her than _just_ being spied on. He still remembered her face when she confessed to him about how being put in public so much could make her feel like a commodity and not a person. That she felt like they'd told her her body didn't belong to her.

_I tried to free myself and people told me I didn't have the right. That it wasn't about me, it wasn't my choice. I had to fight. I fought to free myself, and I did._

And then Cerberus took it back away from her again.

His voice went rough. Angry. “How do we get them out of her? Can we get them out of her?”

“I am capable of removal. Cerberus may interfere onboard ship. Acquire the Commander and bring her to a controlled environment. Omega is familiar. Equipment there. Optical transmitter is also sending location signal, as is wrist implant. Both will have to be disabled before we move incapacitated Commander.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Joker said hastily as the rapid-fire information poured over them.

“I can rig something to overload cybernetics, but- you're saying we need to kidnap her,” Garrus said, stomach sinking even as his mind started making plans. No, Mordin had obviously thought this through, and it was viable. Just complicated. “Knock her out, disable the locators, then move her to a second location for removal. She can't hear or see it's me, so I'll have to come up from behind her and knock her out. I don't want to hurt her, it'll have to be drugs...”

“What the _fuck_ , Garrus!”

His mind was moving too fast to reassure Joker, putting the pieces of the plan together. “It has to be a time where they won't start looking for her immediately. Like she says she's going out for a while. We can't forewarn her in any way, but...”

“If not heard or seen, she may be warned. Vakarian said she was using touch-code language?”

“Uh, yeah, morse code,” Joker said.

“Find a way. If you can, communicate to not eat for thirty hours-”

“You're serious?” Joker asked, still sounding overwhelmed.

“Can you communicate that, Joker?”

“You want me to just casually tell Shepard in morse code 'hey, don't eat, you're gonna have a surprise kidnapping surgery on Omega'?”

“It's Shepard. If you tell her 'don't eat', she'll assume the rest,” Garrus said, oddly proud of that fact. Damn, Faith was smart. “She got us this far, didn't she? Where will we take her on Omega?”

“You have a location.”

“I'm not taking her to the base, it's compromised by both the gangs _and_ Cerberus. Probably blown up by now. My apartment is a pit, I only keep it for emergencies,” Garrus said, disbelieving. “Isn't there anywhere more sterile? The clinic? With her medical issues...”

Mordin dismissed him brusquely, choosing another location for the air car before it could stop. “Will not have Cerberus endanger the clinic. Unthinkable.”

“Can we risk contacting Aria? I know it'll cost, but-”

“Negative.”

He trusted that Mordin had likely already thought of every possible repercussion, and didn't argue. “Fine, then it'll have to be the apartment. Can't guarantee it's anywhere close to sterile, though. Also...someone might be squatting in it.”

“If certain Shepard wishes them removed...”

“I am,” Garrus said, because the alternative was to believe this was just what they had now, and he couldn't believe this was her. That this was it. He glanced back at Joker again, and their eyes met. He could see all of this sinking in, the panic on Joker's face fading away. Finally, he nodded.

“I guess I am too,” Joker said.

He wouldn't want to decide this without Joker's input, it made him feel more secure that it was what Faith wanted.

“Risk of severe infection low. Antibiotics will be administered. May be mild complications, but once the Commander feels safe, return to the ship should allow correction.”

Joker interrupted quickly. “Complications. What do you mean, complications?”

“Transmitters wired into nervous system, as mentioned before. May cause 'phantom' pains after removal until system adjusts. Preferable to violation of privacy, presumably.”

“I guess,” Joker said with a sigh. “The longer this takes, the harder it's gonna be. We just _left_ Omega. How are you gonna get her to go back?”

Garrus leaned back into his seat. “Leave that up to me. I've got to call a guy about a big gun. Are we sure that if we do this, Shepard's safe? Cerberus isn't going to try anything, are they?”

“No way,” Joker denied. “The Illusive Man? He's decided he _needs_ her, for whatever reason. Shepard specifically. Honestly, I feel like she could probably just confront them and demand it be removed, but...”

“That's not really Faith, especially not when dealing with Cerberus,” Garrus said dryly.

“She hates them too much,” Joker confirmed.

Garrus sighed slowly. “Well, it's as close to a good plan as we're going to get. We need to stay out for at least an hour, probably more, to avoid suspicion.”

“Alibi does not necessarily require lying. Silversun?” Mordin suggested.

“I could stand to have a drink. Joker?” Garrus asked, glancing back at him.

“I think I need at least one to wrap my head around this plan you guys just pulled out of your asses like it was a thing normal people did...but if we're gonna turn around and go back to Omega, I should probably talk to Faith now. Mind if I invite her?”

“A bit,” Garrus said, rather than lying. He'd been counting on being able to relax a little. Still, the sooner this was over, the better. “But do it anyways.”

“Sorry, Garrus,” Joker said apologetically.

“Let's not delve into my complicated issues with Shepard in front of the doctor, if you don't mind,” Garrus said, with a chagrined chuckle. “We just need to focus on helping her right now.”

“What do you think she has planned, if we get the shit out of her?” Joker asked. “I mean, we've still gotta stop the Collectors.”

“I don't know, but I really hope whatever it is involves not leering at Miranda any more,” Garrus muttered.

Joker laughed in a harsh rasp. “I'll drink to that.”

Faith really did try not to baby Joker, but she was surprised to hear the noise in the background when he called her. And then a little worried. Some minor research on her own had exposed how much damage he'd taken when the Normandy had blown up.

It was still in her head- even with her attempt to save him, she'd almost lost him.

“Are you out?” she asked, still in the process of toweling her hair.

“Yeah, getting' a drink with the guys,” Joker replied, to her surprise. “Come on, come meet us.”

The guys. Uh...

“Which guys? You have guys now?”

“Just Garrus and Mordin, they dragged me out,” Joker said with a laugh. “You gotta come rescue me or I'm gonna go broke at the casino.”

Garrus, Mordin, and Joker...

“Well, I guess it's for a good cause,” Shepard allowed, and then glanced down at her omni-tool. “We were planning to be off-station in four hours. How wasted are you guys?” She wasn't going to drink- she hadn't had a single one since she'd 'woken up'. Couldn't afford to be sloppy.

“Just having a couple drinks. Four hours is fine,” Joker dismissed easily. “I'm probably just going to have a beer. Two, tops. I'll be good to fly. You need to get out, Faith.”

She didn't have a good excuse.

And that particular combination of people was odd enough to make her wonder if they were calling her out for a reason.

“Yeah, you're not wrong,” she sighed, tossing the towel over her desk chair and heading for the closet. “You better be somewhere that I don't have to dress up, though.”

“Don't worry about it, you can be as much of a slob as you want,” Joker assured her. “Grab an air car and meet us at Silver Coast casino. Just...one condition.”

“What?” she sighed, grabbing clean underwear and slinging them on.

“Don't bring Miranda, okay? Guys' night.”

“You do know I'm not a guy, right?” Shepard asked, amused.

Joker snorted. “Same difference.”

“She probably wouldn't go even if I did invite her,” Shepard said, and forced herself to sound upset over it. “Do you think she's the kind of person that likes flowers, or-”

“Shut up! Get your ass out here!”

Joker hung up the call.

Pleased that he had so she didn't have to keep talking about that shit, Shepard threw on her nicest t-shirt and hoodie. Debating over sweatpants, she finally grabbed the loose-legged yoga pants that sort of looked like they weren't casual pants, but sure didn't feel like it. Cerberus had basically copied her wardrobe. Unfortunately, that meant she had zero clothes that weren't workout gear.

Pulling back, she turned and examined her butt in the mirror, arching her back and shifting her hips. Getting better, but...still needed work. Why didn't muscles build faster? Completely unfair.

Of course, staying within Karin's caloric demands would help, too.

Geared up, she twisted her annoyingly damp hair up into a ballerina bun and stabbed it into place with a hairpin. It felt weird to go out unarmored. Especially onto Citadel. Navigating the quiet ship, she slipped out of the airlock and onto the dock- a different one than the old Normandy's dock, but still close enough.

There was an uncomfortable pause at the exit, a moment as she waited for the old panic. There was a twinge of it, but not as much as there had been- it seemed to be fading. She just had to remember that it was okay.

_You can't be killed so easily now._

She had to believe it, had to cling to the idea that Karin wasn't telling the truth and they were working on her turian allergy. Considering how goddamn crippling and deadly it was, to not do so would be negligent. Everything she'd been working on since she'd woken up was founded on her trust in Karin. If it wasn't true, everything else would falter.

She was exhausted from being on guard at all times.

It was worse now, with Garrus around.

She caught herself slipping every time they spoke. When she'd realized earlier that he still had that stupid Volkov she'd given him she'd nearly fucking burst into tears. It made the hope worse, and she couldn't afford to indulge it. Hope that...

No, no, that hope needed to stay buried, dead.

She needed to get free so she could apologize, so that they could really _talk_.

Anything more than that she couldn't think of.

Despite all Joker's claims to the contrary, when she made it to the casino she definitely felt under-dressed. Sure there was a mix here, as opposed to what would be going on at an upscale bar, but there were more heels and evening wear than she usually saw at her type of night spots. Scowling a little, shoving her free hand into the pocket of her N7 hoodie, she called Joker.

“You're full of shit, I look like a schlub.”

“Yeah, but if you dressed up, we'd never know it was you. We have a table to the left of the bar at the Daytona stage. Come rescue me from Mordin, he's spent the last twenty minutes talking about Earth musicals and I need someone on his level to rescue me.”

“Ooh, musicals!” Shepard said, brightening. “Hey, ask him if he-”

“No,” Joker interrupted, and hung up on her.

Grumping her way along, she eventually found her way. The casino floor called her, but she didn't need to be losing money right now. The casino had a VI that directed her easily enough to the Daytona, a nice little stage and bar club inside of the casino itself.

An odd vibe for the trio- they looked amusingly out of place as she approached.

It was Garrus that caught her attention, and despite knowing she should behave, she couldn't help the exasperated look she turned on him.

“What?” he asked, voice barely lifted over the noise of the crowd.

“You still have _scorch marks_ on your armor,” she replied, gesturing with one hand. “Not even mentioning the chunk missing.”

“They took my credits, I don't see what the problem is,” he dismissed.

“Oh my god you're getting new armor,” she sighed irritably, and then glanced at Joker as he rose to his feet, gesturing her in. “And when was the last time you washed that hat-”

“Sit down and get a drink,” Joker replied, rolling his eyes.

It was weird he wanted her to sit on the inside, usually he sat on the inside to avoid getting bumped into. Was this something important, or...best not to overthink it. Stepping in, she let herself be sat between Joker and Garrus, though she tried to keep some space from the latter. Shifting her attention, she greeted, “Mordin.”

“Shepard.”

“What, no complaints for Mordin?” Garrus asked suspiciously.

“No, he actually looks very appropriate. More than me, anyways,” Shepard said with a laugh. “I'm such a mess. The fanciest thing I've ever owned was a dress uniform.”

“That's all turian formal wear is, so you'd fit right in,” Garrus informed her.

She laughed, a little relieved that sitting next to him meant she didn't need to look at him. The less she stared at him, the better. It turned out Joker hadn't been twitting her, so she and Mordin rapidly engaged in a lively (if very fast-paced) discussion about musicals. He knew a lot more about non-earth adaptations, which was fun and educational, and she also found out that the asari had recently been showing an interest in ballet.

That was definitely up her alley.

Despite her protests, Joker had ordered her usual dry gin martini, but she did her best to nurse it. About two thirds through, though, she could feel it working on her- not just mentally, but physically. Everything was a little hazy. Damn it.

“Are you sick again?” Garrus asked when there was a break in both conversation and the music.

Defensively, Shepard lifted both hands to her cheeks, which were blazing with heat. “I'm still a little, but. N-no.”

“Oh my god, Shepard,” Joker laughed, ducking her flailing swat in his direction. “How are you drunk off of less than a single fucking martini?”

“I'm not!” she declared, and then squinted her eyes closed. Oh god, she was so hot. “I haven't had a single drink since...you know, okay? I have _no_ alcohol tolerance, and I haven't eaten yet.”

“Oh shit,” Joker laughed, sounding very pleased. “How the mighty have fallen. You used to be able to drink me under the table.”

“Here, let's maybe...” Garrus picked up her glass and moved it out of the way. She tried not to stare at his hand. “A little afraid you're going to go supernova right about now.”

He wasn't wearing gloves. And now her brain was thinking about how much she'd liked the way his hands felt on her, and...in her. Okay, that definitely did not make the redness any better.

“Yes, yes, very funny,” she muttered. Ready to descend into a diatribe to cover her flustering, she was silenced by a tap on her thigh. It came in tandem from a new singer on the stage, and she let her gaze snap in on it. The contact was familiar, and must overtly be ignored.

Joker had something to say.

It took her about three repetitions of taps against her thigh, hearing Garrus talking to Mordin without registering what they were saying. Eventually, though, she managed to translate the brief message, and reached down to gently grab his hand. Carefully, she squeezed it in recognition.

_Do Not Eat._

Wait, what?

She released him, and he repeated the same message. Twice, until she dragged her tipsy, confused brain out of where it was swimming to tap a confirmation. He dropped it at that point.

He didn't want her to eat.

Why would someone not...

Well, before a medical procedure, but- oh god, did that mean what she thought it did? Garrus wasn't acting weird about her being weird. Mordin had done scans. Now Joker was telling her not to eat- had they all figured it out? Did it mean things were going to be...

“So, I ah- managed to get ahold of a guy that knows a guy,” Garrus said casually. It drew her attention, glancing up at his profile. He wasn't looking at her, but at the stage. She was on the side away from where he'd taken the hits. He tilted his head when he spoke, and she was struck by a weird urge to lean up and nuzzle in to where his jaw met his neck.

That was the part of her brain she had to ignore right now.

Fighting to not be a tipsy, horny idiot who would ruin every single plan she'd been working so hard on, she managed, “a guy that knows a guy?”

“Yeah, about- you know. Big guns?” Garrus said, and she had to stop staring at him to remember how to think.

Right, the ship weaponry.

“Okay, well, good. Whatever we need-”

“Yeah,” he interrupted, smooth as butter. “Here's the problem. The Turian Hierarchy isn't really crazy about people getting their hands on the Thanix right now. My contact can provide, but we have to pick it up. Quick.”

Shepard nodded, one too many times. “Expedited delivery, okay. Well, depending on where it is...”

“Omega,” Garrus said.

Blinking, she tilted her head to the side. “Well, it's not a tough trip, but we just sort of _left_ there, so...”

“I can cancel it,” Garrus said, but she could hear a hint of challenge underneath.

“The new Normandy can handle it, Faith,” Joker told her, folding his arms on the table. “I think it'd be a good addition to our arsenal.”

“If we take a pass, will we be able to get our hands on it later?” she asked, bemused by their insistence.

“I can't guarantee it.”

Giving a little 'hmm', Faith weighed the options which were 'big gun and also Garrus says to do it' against...against...what was it against? She couldn't think of a single thing. Reaching for her martini, only to have Garrus pick it up and lift it out of her reach, she let her hand fall back onto the table. “Well okay, let's get a big gun! Also, I'm in charge, so give me my drink.”

“Nah,” he said, and then tossed it back.

Faith was inordinately pleased as it sent him sputtering and coughing, laughing to herself as he pulled the glass away and stared at it like it had betrayed him.

“What _was_ that? That's worse than vodka!”

“Gin,” Faith laughed, lifting both hands to her overheated cheeks. “It's good!”

“It's like if knife was a flavor,” Garrus said, pushing the empty glass across the table, away from him. Like he was afraid it would bite him.

“He's not wrong,” Joker said, shaking his head. “You've got shitty taste in liquor, Shepard.”

Mordin reached for the empty glass, tilting it and giving it a small sniff. She watched his eyelids flicker, and then he declared, “sharp, complex herbals. Not unpleasant. Acquired taste. Perhaps too sophisticated for current company.”

“You're my new favorite,” Faith told Mordin, beaming happily as she dropped her hands. “I want another one since Garrus stole my drink.”

“We've only got three hours and you said we would be sober,” Joker reminded her.

“Boo,” Shepard sighed, leaning back in her seat. He was right, but she was just tipsy enough that her brain was saying 'fuck everything, drink more'. This was why she _hadn't_ drunk anything this whole time. “Fine, then I'll just watch the show.”

She settled in to glower at the stage, barely noticing the waitperson approaching.

“Can my friend here get a water? I'll have another beer,” Joker said, and then glanced down the table.

“I'll take another whiskey,” Garrus said, and she had to fight not to tell him that he didn't need any more.

His voice was already whiskey, all warm and rough and melty on the inside. For the first time in too long, she was actually close enough that she could feel the way it buzzed through her. Skipping the brain and heading for every nerve below it.

Mordin ordered something as well, but she wasn't listening any more.

It was incredibly unfair that in so small a time as they'd been together that he should be allowed to do this to her. If it hadn't been for Joker's message, she might throw it all away. All she wanted was to finally be free. Free of her own paranoia, free of fear, free of the goddamn shield that got heavier the longer she held it up.

She wanted to stop holding herself up and ask Garrus to do it.

But she couldn't.

So instead, she sat in silence and drank her water, and thought about holding his hand under the table. They kept a good foot of distance between them. Even when she got weak and let her hand drop under the table, falling into the space between their seats, he wasn't there.

_Do not eat._

Another reason not to drink any more- and another reason to hope for the things she shouldn't be allowed to hope for.

But, if freedom was possible...

Maybe she could fix every other thing she'd fucked up.

Including _them_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for every comment, kudos, and hit! They keep the chapters coming! <3


	12. Chapter 12

Scrambled eggs were not actually tasty after all, it turned out.

Which was good, because she wasn't supposed to eat anyways, so after one taste she was ready to tap out even if they had tasted good. Which they didn't. They tasted like...sadness and sulfur.

“These are gross,” Shepard complained, poking them around the plate. “Are they just badly cooked?”

Jack looked up from her plate, peering at her. “No. You never had eggs before?”

“No,” Shepard confirmed, giving a sigh and resting her cheek on her hand. She was slowly learning that persistence was the key to getting Jack to actually communicate with her. That and taking her to kill things. She did enjoy that. “I recently got un-allergic to them, and now I find out I don't like them. This is severely disappointing. Joker keeps hyping me up about pizza, and now I'm worried I won't like it. I mean, I've had forms of it. Like, crust with avocado and vegan cheese- until I couldn't have that any more, either.”

Jack gave her a blank stare. “That sounds fucking disgusting. Also...not pizza.”

“This is why I just ate ration bars. Because at least then I didn't have to care about liking them or not,” Shepard groused, pushing the plate away from herself after a glance to check that the Mess Sarge wasn't still in the kitchen. She didn't want him to feel bad. “I was so excited to get to eat real food that wasn't meticulously prepared sushi, and...my mouth doesn't know what to do with it. I need to take a remedial eating class or something.”

“Sushi's okay,” Jack said, taking her plate and dragging it over, scraping her eggs to join hers.

Faith had no complaints about that. “If the doc asks, I ate my eggs.”

“Whatever.”

She'd already lied about eating while they'd been out last night, so hopefully this would keep her in the clear from scolding.

“Hey, whenever you feel like it, I have a move I want to try and figure out with you. You know what a Fastball Special is?” At Jack's head-shake, Shepard leaned her elbows on the table. “Comic thing. I know, I'm a nerd. It's a move where one person basically throws the other person into battle. We could use your biotics. I'm just saying-”

Jack gave her a flat stare, hunched over her plate. “This is me saying it, but...are you suicidal?”

“Only a little,” Shepard admitted with a little laugh. “But no, I get that having you throw me directly would not work out well, but if you threw something and I happened to be _on_ it...”

Jack's expression turned thoughtful. “Still sounds stupid to me, but it's your fucking funeral...”

_Yes._

“A stupid plan only a stupid plan if it fails. Otherwise? Unconventional tactics,” Shepard declared cheerfully. Her actual good mood faded as Miranda's office door slid open, but her smile remained in place. Slinging an arm behind her chair, she leaned back, grabbing her coffee and lifting it in salute. “Morning, Miranda!”

“Fuck, I shouldn't have let you convince me to come up here,” Jack muttered irritably around a mouthful of eggs.

“Good morning. Shepard, may I ask why we are on-route back to Omega yet again?”

Before Miranda would have asked to talk in private. Now she wasn't even doing that. Shepard kept her smile in place.

“Cause I got swindled. Joker and Garrus dragged me out to get drinks and then convinced me to buy a neat giant gun while I was drunk,” Shepard said, cheerfully lying. “We won't be too long. Just going to go pick up a possibly illegal to obtain Thanix cannon, get it retrofitted onto the ship, and then we're out of there. It's not like we're going to Palaven any time soon. No one needs to know.”

Miranda stared at her blankly for a good ten seconds, until Jack snickered. “I...Shepard, I realize that this is your command, but the ship _has_ been provided to you by Cerberus, and I would think at the very least we would discuss such a major modification.”

“Kay. I'm buying a big gun off a smuggler. Are you okay with me sticking it on the ship? I suppose I could just leave it in the hangar if you don't want me to.” Shepard sipped her coffee, blinking innocently at Miranda.

“You don't _have_ to purchase it.”

“Garrus already called his guy, Miranda! His guy! You can't just go back on that sort of thing. Besides, he's so grumpy, I don't want to deal with him when he's grumpier- trust me, he gets worse than this. _Relax_. More firepower is always better.”

“I understand, but-” Miranda stopped short as the door to the battery slid open across the way.

Garrus wandered out, attention on his omni-tool, and he was halfway through the mess before he realized they were all staring at him. Glancing up, he turned his head, scanning them all. “What?”

“I forgot to tell Miranda I was gonna buy a big gun.”

“Ah,” he said, and then glanced over at Miranda. She was watching for it, and she saw the slight mandible twitch of what was probably a suppressed smile, though his voice was bland and smooth. “She's buying a big gun.”

“He already called his guy,” Shepard said again, sipping her coffee.

“I already called my guy,” Garrus agreed, and then continued on through the mess. “Where's your visor, Shepard?”

“In my locker in the armory. Do you need me to unlock it?”

“Nah, I'll just hack it open,” Garrus said, already disappearing.

“What are you doing with it?” she called after him.

“Looking at your targeting system!”

Shepard slumped back into her chair, glancing across the table at Jack. Jack slowly raised an eyebrow at her, a smirk on her lips. “He's looking at my targeting system,” Shepard told her.

“I wouldn't mind him looking at _my_ targeting system,” Jack joked with a little cackle.

“Ah, innuendo. Truly the breakfast of champions,” Shepard said, ignoring the highly inappropriate spike of jealousy. Leaning back, she glanced up at Miranda again, who was on her omni-tool now. “Listen, sorry Miranda. But genuinely, I got ambushed and I didn't think about it. You're right, I should have run it by you.”

Smiling her most ingratiating smile, she ignored Jack's gagging noise.

“The weapon in question looks as if it might be beneficial to acquire,” Miranda allowed, lips pursing slightly. “In the future, however, maybe we could discuss these things together, Shepard.”

“It's a date!” Shepard agreed, doing her best to look relieved.

When Miranda just left the room, Shepard pulled a face and turned back to the table, leaning forward in her seat. “Whew, I almost screwed _that_ one up.”

“Shepard, I mean this in the most 'not even a little interested in your ass' way _ever_ , but you need to stop licking her fucking boots, it's even embarrassing _me_ ,” Jack informed her.

“So you're saying renting every billboard in downtown Zakera to spell out 'step on me, mommy' might be overkill?” Shepard asked innocently, just to enjoy the utterly disgusted sputtering from across the table. Jack glared at her, slamming down her fork, and Shepard laughed. “I don't know, I think she's kinda into me. Jack, I'm an optimist.”

“Masochist,” she rasped.

“Oh, that was never in question. I'm definitely a masochist! I mean, I'm N7,” Shepard said with a faint chuckle. “Speaking of- I'm gonna go work out. These abs aren't gonna tone themselves.” She slapped her stomach.

“I'm trying to eat here.”

“Hell, don't let me stop you.” Shepard slung herself up, pleased by the small victory of getting Jack to eat with her, and not willing to push her any further by forcing more company on her. Boundaries needed testing a little at a time. It was a start.

It was annoying, she could _tell_ she hadn't eaten in over twenty four hours. No matter what Karin thought of her intake, she normally ate when she was hungry, and the gnawing sensation and the brain fog were unpleasant. But Joker had told her not to eat, and so she wouldn't.

She'd stick it out.

A call pinged her, and she picked it up blindly, heading towards the hangar. “Yeah?”

Jacob cleared his throat. “Uh, Commander, Garrus just broke into your locker. He said you were...okay with that?”

“Oh, yeah. He's looking at my targeting system,” Shepard said, hiding a smirk even though no one could see it. “You'll get used to it, this is how he occupies himself. We don't have a ground vehicle for him to tinker with.”

“Whatever you say, Commander. He wanted me to inform you that he's taking your disruptor mod for some sort of tests- okay, but I- fine, he says he's 'removing the disruption elements for modification to increase the probability of complete target overload', which I apparently needed to tell you verbatim.”

Shepard didn't bother to hide her smile this time, a surge of fond affection overtaking her. “That's fine, just tell him not to blow himself up. I'm heading to work out.”

“I need to tap out today, Commander. You know, you're supposed to let your muscles _rest_ sometimes,” Jacob said, a little exasperated.

Shepard grinned to herself. “And that's why we switch muscle groups. Okay, okay. I'll take mercy on you today. I'm just working on my core and flexibility anyways.”

“Don't need a spot, then?”

“I'm good,” she assured him. The call ended, and she lifted her voice. “EDI, give me a heads up when we're about an hour out from Omega, please!”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Appreciated,” Shepard said, heading into the portion of the hangar set aside for her gym equipment. At least this she hadn't had to fight for- it'd all been here when she'd gotten onboard. Sure, maybe the whole 'look at how well Cerberus knows you' thing was bullshit and pissed her off, but at least this was useful.

They'd even set up a barre, which was amusing because she hadn't danced ballet in _years_.

Still, handy for stretching.

The loss of her music stung, she'd spent ages building her playlists and getting them the way she wanted. It was what it was, though. Maybe she could eventually rebuild the library with some deep searching, though some of the more obscure stuff was probably a loss. Sucked.

A random music playlist on her omni-tool from whatever was currently popular was at least motivational noise.

She avoided looking at her messages.

Like she always did.

Stretching, pretzel-ing herself and listening to music was meditative, and unlike the old Normandy's garage the hangar was quiet and empty apart from her. It was peaceful, and let her mind wander.

If they were planning something on Omega, she needed to give them every chance to do it. That meant taking Mordin and Garrus and no one else, but listening if they made suggestions. Being aware, alert, and focused.

All this time she'd been hoping that her fears were nothing, but having confirmation was what she needed. If Mordin pulled her aside and said 'hey, you're completely paranoid', she'd feel silly, but be relieved. Because the worst case scenario was even worse than the lack of free will that a command chip would cause.

The worst case scenario was that she wasn't even who she thought she was.

It was too viscerally horrifying to dwell on, but she knew it was always lurking in the back of her head, and was probably why she'd gone about things all bass-ackwards like she had instead of confronting Miranda and demanding the truth. She might not be Faith Shepard. She might just be something built in a lab, made to think it _was_ her.

That was the reason that she was afraid to look at the fucking cracks in her skin.

Maybe if she peeled it back there wouldn't be anything underneath but metal.

Okay, yes, that was also stupid and paranoid because why would a _robot_ have allergies and also the doc would have told her, but if they could bring her back from the fucking dead they could alter her memories and sensory input with the shit in her head. She _was_ paranoid but it also wasn't impossible. Nothing was. That's why she really should not be thinking about it when she didn't know a damn thing.

Once she'd finished giving herself existential crises, Shepard got the call from EDI and headed up to shower.

One way or another, it was game time.

Having Shepard ask him and Mordin to follow her onto Omega was reassuring Garrus.

It meant that maybe she understood that they were trying to help- that they were working together in whatever way they could. He hadn't slept, but he'd finally managed to cobble together a prototype cybernetic disruptor that seemed to have a small enough radius to not knock out her whole system.

It was easy to entirely disable- harder to target a small area.

A handy little device, though- not to brag. An EMP would temporarily knock things out, but it didn't do damage, so cybernetics would just turn back on. A disruptor, on the other hand, would overload and fry circuits. He didn't want Faith to explode, though, so he had to temper it a little.

And when he'd tested and tinkered all he could, in a move that would have really pissed off Faith if she'd known he'd done it, he'd briefly removed his bandages and tested the finished product on the cybernetics Doctor Chakwas had used to help patch him back together.

It worked.

He had a _nasty_ headache now, but it worked.

Unfortunately, he'd miscalculated slightly and the device had fried itself, but stealing Shepard's disruptor mod and making a second one had solved that little hiccup.

“Would like to check in on clinic afterwards,” Mordin said as they headed into the noisy, chaotic markets of the Tuhi district. “Does not require accompaniment. Area is currently stable.”

“Sure, it'd be weird to stop by Omega and not say hello,” Shepard agreed casually. “Tell Doc Daniel I say hi, too. I'm probably going to putter around the market for a bit after we get this delivery set up, anyways. I could probably stand to look at some new pistols. Also, Garrus, I'm buying you new armor.”

“Cosmetic damage,” he dismissed.

“There is literally a _piece_ missing from your cowl. You can get it repaired later if you're going to be sentimental about it, but this isn't about sentiment. All this is about is making sure you don't get me killed, okay? Plus, you need a new helmet. Keep complaining and it'll be neon yellow armor.”

“All right, all right. As long as it's out of Cerberus' accounts,” he said with a chuckle. “I suppose there's some people I should check in on, too.”

“Will two hours do you both?”

“Can we make it three?” Garrus asked casually. Mordin had to get his supplies together and hire an air car, and Garrus needed to ensure the apartment was ready. Two hours would be cutting it way too close for his taste.

Shepard shrugged. “Yeah, I like window shopping, no big deal.”

Another lie- he knew she despised shopping. Good, then they were in the same mindset. He hoped.

“Three hours is acceptable,” Mordin agreed.

“Great.”

Garrus led them to the entirely legitimate business deal they were engaging in. Not just a front. He really hoped Joker was right about the fact that Cerberus needed Shepard far too much to cause them any trouble over this little kidnapping, because he really wanted to get his hands on the Thanix. It was an extremely interesting bit of tech.

Luckily the purchase went smoothly- he could imagine they didn't want to hang onto the weapon any longer than possible. Or...weapons. It turned out they'd gotten two, and even better- Shepard was game for buying both of them. Now that was some real firepower.

Expensive, but worth it.

He was trying to match Shepard's effortless acting, but the closer they got to finishing the deal, the more nervous he was getting. Garrus kept reminding himself that it was a pretty simple plan. It had to be, with how little time they had, because they couldn't plan for every possible contingency. Well, he couldn't.

Mordin probably already had.

Despite his attempts to reassure himself, the time they parted ways he was an absolute wreck.

Getting back to his old neighborhood took the better part of twenty minutes. It hadn't much changed, but he'd stopped by every now and again to check in on things. The area was a bit better than when he'd moved in, and the homeless encampment was long gone- they'd all either died, disappeared, or moved on to dingier streets.

He headed straight for Vetarius' stall, which was in the same place, just a little better stocked. The old merc was watching his asari dramas and drinking, the cybernetic arm Garrus had helped him get still looking in decent shape. Good to see.

“You got what I asked for?”

Vetarius glanced up, and Garrus saw his eyes flick to the scarred, damaged side of his face. The bandages didn't cover it all, he knew his mandible was pretty nastily scarred. Before there could be a comment, he declared, “I'm hard to kill, you know that.”

A black crate was kicked underneath the stall toward Garrus, and he bent down to scoop it up without question. A weird collection of items, but he knew that Vetarius wouldn't ask. He'd been on Omega way too long to. Extending his hand, Garrus scanned the payment.

It was exactly the amount they'd agreed on, which was a nice change of pace around here.

Usually Vetarius tried to gouge him at least a little.

Kind of hurt his feelings that he hadn't.

“Appreciated. If you see anyone asking around in the next few hours...”

“I don't know anything,” Vetarius finished, picking up his bottle and turning back to his screen.

“Glad to see nothing's changed.”

Considering that was as close as they ever got to a conversation, it'd have to do. Hauling up the crate, he headed back for the old apartment. It'd come in handy a few times, and he'd only lost it twice- both times squatters had been run out easily enough. When he scanned and entered, the door opened reluctantly, a stale, unpleasant smell rolling out.

The front room was trashed.

Great.

At least it didn't smell like there was a body rotting in here.

It seemed someone had been squatting, but they were long gone. He dragged out the terrible bed he didn't at all miss, trying to avoid wondering what the stains on it were, and shoved all the debris and other furniture from the front room into the bedroom, closing it off. The crate contained sterile plastic sheeting, which he covered absolutely everything in, including a double layer on the bed- set in the middle of the floor.

Looked like some sort of creepy back-alley organ farming op when he finished.

It was probably the best they were going to get.

About an hour and a half had passed when he finished prepping the site, and the chime from the front door was on-time and expected. He brought up his omni-tool and hit unlock, letting Mordin in. The salarian doctor entered with a critical stare, a medical kit thrown across his shoulder, and a crate in his hands.

“Sorry. This is as good as it's going to get.”

Mordin blinked, face unreadable. “Will have to do. No available blood of Shepard's type. If all goes wrong will have to contact Joker for emergency evacuation.”

Damn it.

“We'll have to be careful, then.” Garrus accepted the crate of supplies, setting it next to the sheet-covered bed. “Anything you're missing that I need to find?”

“Negative. Supplies should be sufficient. Cybernetic overload device prepared?”

Garrus nodded. “Tested it on myself, it functions.”

“Efficient testing method,” Mordin said, nodding his head. “Will move air car to rendezvous, and perform one last examination of scans to ensure plan of surgical attack is most efficient. Time cannot be wasted.”

“Can you...give me the basics? I don't expect the full rundown, but knowing what's going to be happening in what order would help.”

“Yes. Most delicate surgery is removal of optical transmitter. Will be first. Wired into optical nerve, uncertain if removal of transmitter will cause eye to lose function- will discover once surgery has begun.”

“That's not reassuring...”

“Less than two days of preparation.”

“It wasn't about you,” Garrus said quickly, lifting a hand. “I appreciate that you're doing this at all. Sorry.”

“Once transmitter is removed, aural transmitter will be removed next. Easier surgery. Less chance of catastrophic failure. Minor chance of hearing loss. Repairable. Lastly- wrist transmitter removal. Only difficulty is small size and close proximity to artery.”

“Hence the lack of spare blood being an issue,” Garrus guessed, and received a nod.

“Onxe all devices are removed and locators are destroyed, repair to any damaged tissue.”

“The drug I'm going to be dosing her with- how long to knock her out, and how long will she stay out?”

“Should take effect within ninety seconds. Recommend injecting in back of the neck from behind. Small pinch. Should be unconscious for five hours, approximately. Located studies on Shepard's particular strain of human indicating a resistance to some anesthetics, so may be inaccurate.”

“Strain?”

“Studying Shepard's genetics for...unrelated issues. Coloring indicates other genetic mutations, including anesthetic and analgesic resistance. Fascinating study.” Mordin paused, and cleared his throat. “Also...not currently relevant.”

Garrus accepted the small injector that Mordin passed him, briefly uncapping the needle to examine it. He'd have to be fast, and make sure he found a place to do it that he could dodge out of the way and hide. Not that he minded if she saw him, but...it was about the transmitter.

“We've almost used up our two hours. Time for me to get into place and wait for an opening.”

“Good luck. Tight operation, if unusual. Impressed with both you and Commander.”

“Well, no way to tell just yet how the op is. Let's save the congratulations for after it's over and she's safe.”

“Agreed,” Mordin said crisply.

They parted ways, the easy part over.

This was the difficult one- at least for Garrus. Returning to the market, he kept behind and between stalls, avoiding the open corridors. It took too long to find her- almost fifteen minutes until he heard her voice. He could pick it out even in the murmur of sound, when beyond the reach of his translator- hadn't he heard her over and over in the last two years?

Her voice, always pulling him back from the edge or torturing him- or both.

When he found her at last, she was talking to some quarian kid. From the shade of a junk booth, he listened to her discreetly. Seemed the kid had been ended up here on his pilgrimage and then ended up flat broke, unable to leave- not an uncommon story in the dirty streets of Omega. As they chattered, she picked up something the engineers were apparently looking for, and then...

Faith being his Faith again.

Persistently, but with her friendly, easy charm leading the way, he watched her convince the kid to let her pay his way off the station to finish his Pilgrimage. It was a little touch and go, but eventually he agreed, thanking her profusely before disappearing. Couldn't get out of there fast enough.

She watched the kid go with a soft, wistful smile on the sliver of her profile, and Garrus watched her.

Commander Shepard, rescuing the helpless again.

But who rescued her?

When she wandered deeper into the maze of alley-like smaller stalls, he followed. Reaching down, he carefully removed the cap from the injector he'd been carrying palmed. She stopped at a stall next to an alley, leaning on the counter as she surveyed the goods. Looked like random imports.

Certainly not the guns and armor she said she wanted to look at.

When she leaned in, face partially shielded, he took the opportunity. Hand out, already walking past, he let the needle held between two of his fingers sink into the back of her neck, barely brushing the top of her armor. Almost before it sank in, he pulled away and kept walking, dropping the now-empty injector behind a support pillar he turned a corner. A few turns and he was weaving his way back towards where he'd left her, from a different direction.

Every second that passed he counted in his mind. It took sixty three to find her again. She was still close to the edge of the market, which would make his job a lot easier. Maybe that was intentional. After all they'd been through by now, he wouldn't be the least bit surprised.

He continued counting the seconds, trying not to panic when he went past ninety. A step she took at ninety five faltered a little. At ninety nine she started to fold at last, and he surged towards her, closing the distance.

Shepard crumpled into his arms, and Garrus immediately scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder.

Tightly controlled focus and a massive surge of adrenaline crashed into him.

Ignoring any stares or comments- which were only surprised at best- he rushed her off of the thoroughfare, dodging immediately into the maze of backstreet Omega. She was limp, swaying, but shifted her body as he ran, pinning her firmly to his shoulder. He wasn't religious, but in his mind he was begging the spirit of the Normandy to help him pull through this so he could bring her Commander back.

He needed to bring their Faith back.

Three turns, and then into a larger alley he went. It was less than three minutes to the rendezvous. He slowed to a jog once there were no sounds of pursuit, holding Faith more securely, her head limp on his shoulder, hair brushing his injured mandible. Right now there wasn't any room for anger, none of the complicated emotions that he still couldn't sort through when it came to her. All he needed was to get her to safety.

Briefly he tilted his head down, resting his forehead against the back of her head.

_It'll all be over soon, Faith._

He slowed as he turned another corner, into a small section of ramshackle shops leading to a broader street. Mordin stepped out of the shadow of a doorway to intercept him. Crouching down, Garrus came to a stop in front of him and splayed Shepard's limp body across his thighs, tucking an arm under her head.

“Changed plans,” Mordin said, reaching for her hair, pulling it up and to the side, turning her head. Too harshly, in his opinion. “Emergency tracking device. Will have to be removed entirely before moving. Dormant, disconnected. Activated remotely. Will be when Shepard is noticed missing. Found on last survey.”

“I trust you,” he said simply, accepting her hair and cradling her cheek on his bicep to brace her. Mordin uncapped a scalpel, and Garrus averted his eyes. He watched her peaceful, slack face instead, blood trickling over his arm as her neck was sliced open. The idea of doing this in the open bothered him, but they didn't have a choice.

He'd get her free of what they'd done to her.

Mordin talked absently to himself in half-words and muttering as he worked, though it only seemed to take a few seconds with the scalpel and some thin, long pliers.

“Expensive tech.” He heard something crunch, and glanced down as Mordin's foot mashed into the cracked ground. “An unfortunate accident.”

“A shame,” he said, worried more by the brilliantly red blood spilling to the ground than anything else- they didn't have any to spare. It gleamed, strangely beautiful. “It wasn't on the brain stem or-”

“Damage to cybernetics and muscle from rapid removal- within expected perimeters. Overload left wrist.”

The trickle of blood stopped as a temporary patch was put over it- medi-gel would close it over and couldn't be used yet. Releasing her waist, he found her left wrist, carefully bringing it around to bare that dangerously exposed artery so close under her thin, freckled skin. He could see the delicate blue lines of her veins.

And the red glow of cybernetics.

This time he didn't turn his gaze away, focused as he overloaded the cybernetics with the small hand-held device. He saw the glow in the cracks in her skin fade, blacking out. It was over in seconds. The device thankfully managed not to fry itself this time, and was still functional when he overloaded her temple as well, the scars in her skin going dark across half her face.

He immediately picked her up again, and Mordin rose, dropping the scalpel into a small pouch on his kit.

“How long until the self-repair has them working again?”

“Approximately two hours. Will have to be enough.”

Carefully cradling her against his shoulder, he followed Mordin to the waiting air car. A standard Omega rental, it was a piece of trash and very unlikely to be tracked. In his lap she felt so small, limp against his lower chest. He couldn't help the thumb on the vein in her neck, the steady thrum of her pulse as reassuring as the slow rise of her chest.

He kept his hand there for the entire ride, cradling her head and counting the beats of her heart.


	13. Chapter 13

She woke in darkness, chest heaving, adrenaline swelling.

Fumbling for her gun, Shepard jolted upright, hand finding no pillow to hide her weapon. Within seconds her groping hand was intercepted. Panic rising, she was enfolded. Warm, safe, secure, she was enveloped. The arm was pinned to her side, and her body was wrapped in tightly.

“It's okay, Faith, it's okay. You're safe,” a soft, dual-toned voice whispered in her ear.

Tears spilled, and he pulled her in more tightly into a proper embrace as she cried. There was pain, vague and throbbing, but she was too hazy and muddy to pinpoint it. This was good. This was good, but she didn't know why.

“Should return to the ship,” a brisk voice said, cutting through the fog with its sharpness. “Don't want to be suspicious when they discover Commander has been kidnapped.”

“Thank you,” Garrus said. Finally he was close enough that she could _feel_ his voice again, the way it rumbled through her. Despite her confusion and panic, it soothed her, brought her down. Grounded her, finally.

This was good.

“Be careful returning, Cerberus will be on high alert.”

She grabbed at Garrus blindly, pulling on him, trying to remember how to speak. It caught in her throat, exhaled as a fumbling rasp, and then finally she coughed violently. “Stop,” she demanded, a thin, quiet whisper. Her throat felt like it had been sandpapered.

The voice that didn't vibrate through her was brisk and nasal. “Yes?”

“Mordin, is that you?”

“Yes, Shepard. Darkness is necessary. Your eyes must recover from the removal of the optical transmitter. No light for minimum ten hours.”

“Be careful, be safe. I can't guarantee they won't guess you had something to do with this.” She could barely get the words out, her throat was so dry. So damn dry.

“Contingencies planned for. Return once you are rested.”

There was the hiss of a door opening, and closing. She still couldn't quite see, and the even the blue-tinged something at the edges of her vision was gone. Against her will, she was settled back down, plastic crinkling loudly. It wasn't comfortable. Shepard tried to clear her throat, but it stuck.

“Shepard?”

“Water,” she rasped.

“If you talk to me. Please. I need to know it's you.”

The water came, nudged against her too-warm lower lip, and she gulped it down greedily. It spilled into her stomach like ice, gone too soon. She stretched after it, back arching.

A hand splayed against her shoulder, gently pressing her down.

“No. Give it a couple minutes. Please, say something.” He sounded so broken. So uncertain.

“Trust me, please,” she whispered. She nearly choked on it, on the demand she'd made of him before. Would she trust herself? Should she?

His response actually made her relieved.

“Can I?” Garrus asked.

“I don't know,” she acknowledged quietly, trying to hold the tears back. “But I know I remember everything. I remember...Emi. We met because of Emi. And I remember I thought 'wow he's less stuck up than other turians.' You were definitely attractive, Vakarian. Garrus Vakarian.”

He sighed, slow and rough. “Oh, _Faith_.”

Hearing him say her name helped.

Shepard's throat went dry and she coughed, the water coming back to her lips. But so did a hand, supporting him as she swallowed greedily. It was him. He was here.

Blindly she reached out, waving in the darkness. Her fingers found the edge of his scarred mandible, questing along it. “They put shit in my _head._ ” Her voice broke.

His voice was strained, and he pulled back from her hand. “It's gone. You did good. You did so good.”

When he disappeared, she reached out, grabbing at him, trying to pull herself up and in against him. Again, he fended off her hands gently, pushing them back down. She tried not to care, but she was still confused and slow, and it hurt too much to lie about.

Tears spilled, coursing down her cheeks, a little sob catching in her throat. She heard him sigh, slow and tired, but slipped his hands under her arms and pulled her up against him, secure and safe as his arms wrapped around her again. Whatever she was lying on crinkled noisily as he sat down next to her.

This time they sat in silence, the little shudders wracking her as she tried to get control of herself. But damn it, she was so tired, so emotionally exhausted from being on guard all the time. This was safe, or as safe as it got for her- and she wasn't in the least bit delusional about the fact that needing safety from someone she'd hurt so badly wasn't in the least bit fair to him.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For everything, Garrus. I know that's not an apology, not a good one, but I need to start-”

“I understand. It- damn it. It still hurts, but I understand it n- oh no.” His fingers stroked up her cheek, wiping away the tears that refused to stop. A little raspy sob caught in her dry throat, and he hugged her tighter. “No, no. You did your best.”  
“My best _sucks_ ,” she denied angrily. “I hated myself for every second. When I saw you for the first time, I- I wanted to be honest with you. I did, I swear, I wanted to...”

“You had something in your _head_. It's gone now. It's all gone,” he reassured her.

That bleak, existential panic reared its ugly head, and she was too tired to fend it off. “Please, I need to know. I need to know, Garrus. Is it me? Is it me underneath?”

He went very still. “What do you mean?”

“Is this actually me? Is it my body, is it my brain- is it me? I don't know. I need to know.”

“I-” In the quiet darkness, she listened to- felt him breathe, but it couldn't comfort her until she had an answer. “Faith, do you think they would spend two years patching you back together if it _wasn't_ you?”

The answer was so simple and stupid she was embarrassed, but overtaking it and flooding it away was the relief. He was right. Garrus was absolutely right, why would they go to so much trouble if it wasn't her? Why the cybernetics, why any of it? She laughed, tearfully broken. “I'm so stupid.”

“Hey, you're back from the dead, anything's possible,” he reminded her quietly. “Will it help if I tell you everything we did?”

She nodded her head rapidly, and then clung when he tried to pull back. After a few seconds of tension he relaxed back against her with a sigh, and his arms slid back around her shoulders. With her ear pressed to his chest, his voice pushing away the panic and fear, he quietly recited what had happened after she'd felt that sting to the back of her neck in the market.

Faith didn't remember anything after that- after the relief she felt knowing that it might be over now, one way or another. The solid wall of his upper chest was warm and comforting, her cheek settling into the spot where his cowl met his shoulder. Now that the muddy fog was fading, she could feel the pain. Most of it was nothing, a slight throb discomfort in her wrist, the rasp of her dry throat, but there was a pulse in her temple that felt bad enough that she could feel it in her jaw bone, weirdly enough. A slight pressure behind her eye.

Well, considering how quickly Mordin apparently had to move, and how rapidly they had thrown this together, she should be grateful.

“You've lost a lot of blood,” he finally finished, voice heavy with apology. “You haven't eaten, and I wasn't smart enough to bring any ration bars because I wasn't thinking about _after_. I'll go out and see if I can find something. We were going for fast and sterile as possible.”

“We have time now. You gave me time. I- I'm sorry it wasn't as bad as I was afraid of- you must think I completely overreacted, I've just- I've been so afraid and in survival mode, and I did the only thing I could think of-”

Firmly, he interrupted her panicked ramble. “I _know_ what Cerberus did, I was there with you. You had no way of knowing what they'd done to you, just what they were capable of. I don't blame you for not trusting them. Hell, I don't trust them.”

“The thing I was afraid of most of all was that they'd use people against me,” she admitted faintly. “They'd drag in the people I care about, hurt them. That's why I've been keeping you-”

He sighed. “I know.”

Sad and tired, and knowing she should give him space and not push, she still admitted, “I hated every second. All I wanted to do was throw myself at you and never let go.”

“You know that can't happen.”

Breathless, triumphant, Shepard laughed. “What the hell do you think we've been doing?”

He went very quiet and still, the arms around her stiff. She leaned in to him, but he didn't react. She could practically _hear_ him thinking.

“What do you mean, Faith?”

“Karin's been exposing me to the turian proteins and allergens I was reacting to- did you think she wouldn't? Exposure therapy. Like the food. She _lied_ about that stuff she's been giving me, just like I was lying because of the shit in my head. Do you think we wanted them to know about it?”

When he abruptly ripped away from her, she tried not to feel abandoned. It was understandable. But still, there was a hollow pain her chest as she was left alone in the pitch darkness, cold air washing over her. So raw and vulnerable, the tears spilled despite everything. Damn it, she wanted to stop crying.

“Why is that bad?” she asked, forlorn, alone in the darkness, slumping back down.

His voice came from too far away. “I was reckless. I can't risk hurting you.”

“Then it's not about you,” she said, trying to listen for him, track him with her head. It wasn't hard, everything was crinkly and pitch black. “It's about me not being afraid to step off my ship. It's about me being functional. Be _happy_.”

Exhaustion overtook her, and she sighed and slumped back down. The cold, uncomfortable bed crackled softly as she curled on the edge of it, leaving it open. Leaving it for him. He wouldn't come, but she'd still leave it.

Eyes closed, arms wrapping around herself, fingers clutching her shoulders, she breathed out slowly. He was somewhere, a figure weighted over her brain. Leaving her alone.

“Shepard...”

Her voice was starting to dry out again. “Please be happy. You _can't kill me_.”

A long pause passed between them. Despite the walls, the sounds of Omega still filtered in faintly, a background hum of vice. She could hear him breathe, a little too fast.

“I didn't even think about...”

“We've been in a rush.”

“It's a work in progress? So that means you don't-”

She wiped her cheeks with shaky hands. “I don't know much. It's not like I've been able to talk to Karin about it.”

“I need information, I need you to be straight with me right now. Are you reacting to what she's been giving you?”

“A little,” she admitted to him, rather than lie. “I still have reactions. They're not life threatening, and they're not getting worse.”

His voice was stiff. “Not yet.”

“They'll get worse or they'll get better, but it's a risk I want to take,” she said, at least feeling secure in that. “I've got a good chance. I don't want to live with the possibility that a minor reaction will turn into a deadly allergy. I need to find out now, and there will never be a better time. As long as I keep taking the injections, my immune system will stay suppressed.”

Frustration in his voice, and self-recrimination she didn't like. “And I dragged you to Omega for a back-alley surgery.”

“It's what I wanted. You're so fucking smart,” she said, laughing until her voice rasped again. “Shit. I can't believe you figured out-” When her voice broke off, scratchy and painful, she tried to swallow.

“All right, all right. Pull yourself up.”

When she reached out blindly looking for the bottle, Garrus batted her hand away. Sprawling on her back again, half-sitting, she let him give her the water. If it was anyone else it'd never be allowed.

But it was him.

It washed away the prickles and dryness, and yet again she was annoyed when he pulled it away too soon. “More.”

“Slow. Your stomach's empty.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, but it came out choked, the stupid tears starting again.

The bed sagged, accepting his weight and turning her in towards him as he settled down next to her. Before he could have second thoughts, she threw herself at him, arms sliding under his, fingers finding places to dig in. He wasn't in armor. All his angles and the hardness of his carapace were pressed up against her through the barrier of fabric, but he was secure. He was safe.

“Faith,” he said in a rough, tired voice. “I need you to let go of me.”

“No,” she denied stubbornly. “Please.”

“You've been dead for two years. Everything's changed. I've changed. We've...”

“I don't care what's happened,” she denied, fingers digging in. “I don't care.”

He went still again, stiff, and despite her closeness to him he felt further than ever from her.

“You don't care?” he asked.

There was pain in it, unspoken pain. Things she should probe at, demand, things she should know so she could help. But he was right, it'd been two years even if she didn't remember them.

“That isn't how I meant it...I know that the world went on without me for a while, Garrus,” she said tiredly. She didn't want to acknowledge it, especially not clinging to him like she was. Not with him touching her. Reluctantly she let go. He kept trying to pull away and she wouldn't let him- and that wasn't fair to him. “That I'm starting over, in a lot of ways. It's just hard for my heart to feel what my brain knows. I'm sorry. I know you moved on, and-”

He laughed, roughly. “Moved on? Are you kidding? I've spent the last two years blaming myself for letting you go without-”

“We made the right choice,” she interrupted him, hating the way his voice sounded, hating the hollow pain and hurt. She curled in on herself, collapsing and turning away from him. “It was the only choice at the time. We couldn't do that to each other, it was a self-destructive, painful situation, and we would have ended up resenting each other.”

“There was no _we_ in that choice, Faith.” There was something hard in his voice that she didn't like, it reminded him of when they'd been speaking the first time after meeting face to face. Luckily, he sighed and kept talking, voice quieter. “But that doesn't mean I didn't spend nights awake thinking of what I could have done to save you.”

That was something she'd never apologize for. “It was me or Joker. I made the call. I would never have made a different one, I'm sorry.”

“I couldn't ever be angry at you for saving him, I understand _that_. I'm glad you two are back together again. I don't think there's anyone else he'd be happy to fly for.”

“Maybe if they gave him a shiny enough ship, but...is it-” She stopped herself, feeling the distance between them. He hadn't touched her again since she'd pulled away. It was a silly, sad little question to ask, but she had to. “Is it because there's someone else?”

He laughed, low and pained. “No. There have been, but none of them were-”

Shepard shook her head, even knowing he couldn't see her. “I don't need details, Garrus.”

“It's because- the way you looked at me, the way you smiled at me- it wasn't you. It wasn't you. Some sort of nasty joke, like someone wearing your face to torture me. Ever since you sent that damn book, it feels like everything was designed to hurt me, from beginning to end. And I know why, but...”

“That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt,” she acknowledged quietly. Fuck, she thought she'd been so clever, she didn't ever really stop to think what it might mean to him. Maybe it was because it hadn't been two years for her, but that wasn't an excuse. He was right. She'd done a lot of damage trying to get free.

She'd always done a lot of damage to him.

“I'm angry at you. I have been since you died, Faith, and it's still there even when I ignore it and all of this just...made it worse. It's not what I'd call rational, but that doesn't mean it isn't there.”

It wasn't a surprise.

“I think it's pretty rational,” she said quietly, feeling the self-recrimination sinking in with a heavy, nauseous weight. “You were right, I've always hurt you. I shouldn't have come to you from the start, I should have found another way-”

“Stop,” he interrupted her. “I don't know exactly the right thing to say here, Faith, but just don't treat me like I didn't have a choice. Don't treat me like I didn't...”

Feeling awkward making the suggestion, and shamed all over again, she murmured, “have agency?”

“Something like that. I'm not angry at you for anything that happened before. No. I've been angry at you for _dying_ ,” he said, giving a faint laugh that ended in a sigh. “I'm not angry at you for things we couldn't control, or wouldn't. Because that was us, together. We made those choices. You and me.”

Understanding sank in, remembering his other accusations. “But I didn't give you a choice when I left without you, and then...I died.”

“It's felt like hell being angry at a dead person, but I couldn't figure out how to stop. You're here, but it's still there. That doesn't mean I'm pissed at you for coming to me for help- damn it, Faith. That's all I ever _wanted_ from you. The hurt's going to go away. The anger? I don't know, it's pretty stubborn. It might need more time.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” she admitted quietly. If they'd stayed together it would have hurt more, it would have- he could have killed her, and how would he have dealt with that? “I still think it was the right thing. If I hadn't died...”

“You don't need to be _right_ right now!”

His furious words silenced her, and she stared into the darkness blankly. The struggle inside her was still there, to justify herself, protect herself, to feel confident in her choices. It was something she needed. Always balancing the scales.

Always counting lives.

She'd weighed things between them like she did every big choice she had to make, and she'd convinced herself it was the right thing to do. Best for him. But if she wasn't right...

“I _have_ to be, Garrus. To make the choices, to keep going, I have to be right,” she said, practically pleading. She needed him to understand. “Sometimes I have to be a bastard to save people.”

“I didn't need you to be right, and I didn't need to be saved. I just needed you.”

She didn't know what to say to that.

Trying not to cry again, Faith sat in the darkness and listened to his breathing evening back out, fingers curling into her palms as she wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

Garrus gave a long, exhausted sigh at last. “I'm going to go find you something to eat. Keep your eyes closed until I get back.”

In silence she listened to him pull on his armor, and obediently turned over and closed her eyes. Even with her eyes closed the faint light could be felt when the door opened, graying the inside of her lids before it cut off. Alone, in silence, she laid on the plastic-covered bed and stared at nothing.

She was free- and that meant she had to face up to the fact that she'd been dead.

And face all of the people she'd left behind.

Garrus remembered.

Shepard standing stock-still in the middle of the decision that would mean death for one of the people she trusted, lips moving silently. Counting lives. Counting how many sacrifices each choice would cost as she pulled herself away from the emotion. To make the right choice.

He remembered her crying in the aftermath, convincing herself she'd made it- saved the most people.

Another choice, between ten thousand lives and the Council, or possibly the rest of the galaxy. She'd made that choice, too. That time he'd been there, and he'd carried just a little of that weight when the choice was being made, but she'd been through the aftermath of it alone. He'd never understood all of it, from start to finish. What it meant to make the choice, and then what it meant to suffer the consequences.

And now he knew what it really felt like.

Remembering the names, staring the bodies in the face as he covered them up, apologizing in his mind. It was his fault they'd died. That weight...

_Sidonis had betrayed them._

But he'd been the one to lead them, to start the fight. He'd been the one to convince them to stay, that there were more people to save, that there was more to do. More lives. It was about saving lives.

And that's why she'd left him behind, he understood that now.

But damn it, that wasn't what it should be about, not with them. It felt like a betrayal that she didn't _get_ that. Yes, he knew she'd been dead, and he hadn't, but even still...

This was too complicated.

Garrus knew from the start it had been, and knew he'd completely failed to separate himself, be objective. He hadn't been just trying to rescue Faith. He'd been trying to have _his_ Faith back, except somewhere in the last two years he'd forgotten just all what that meant. They were a mess. All the bad memories had the edges filed off, but that didn't mean they hadn't happened.

Her being alive didn't fix anything.

It was easy enough to find nutrient paste- it'd have to do for now. After checking that it was levo, he began wending his way back towards the apartment. Both of their omni-tools were virtually disabled, all his could do right now was open and close the door, but he kept a few small credit chips on hand for emergencies.

The temptation to buy a bottle was there, but he needed to be sharp right now.

Until she was ready to go, this was probably the last time he could leave the apartment- every hour that passed meant it was more likely they'd started looking for her.

Damn it, he hadn't meant to attack her like that.

She needed to relax right now, not get two years of his issues dumped on her all at once. He could control himself, he needed to just give it- and her- some time. Hell, Garrus wasn't even sure what he wanted. He hadn't had a thought past getting her free.

Everything had been moving at light speed and abruptly it had stopped- crashing into him.

When the door slid open she was lying in the middle of the white room, her back turned towards him. The only things that broke the monochrome monotony was the pile of her armor, and the bloodstains on the extra sheet they'd removed after her surgery. And her, of course.

She was huddled all on one side of the bed, curled in on herself. Just a glimpse before the door closed and left him in darkness. Leaving his armor on this time, he approached the bed again. He could hear her breathing, quiet and so even that he didn't know if she was awake.

“Faith?”

Her breathing hitched, and then she let out a long, slow sigh that sounded exhausted. “I don't even know how to start apologizing,” she said quietly.

Blindly moving towards the bed, he found it with a knee and dropped the packets on it. Turning away, he slumped down to the floor, leaning his back against it. Garrus didn't quite know what to say, but-

“I don't really need any apologies. At least not for the things you seem to be sorry for.”

She let out slow sigh, the plastic sheeting crinkling as she turned over on it. “I know. And the things you do...I sort of just pick a direction and go in it, Garrus. It's how I've lived my whole life- hell, it's how I was trained. Make the call, take the consequences, save the day. I try to listen to people, I hope I'm a decent leader...”

“You are,” he said, trying to stay neutral and not resentful.

“But in the end one person has to make the choice when things go to hell, and...when the time comes to make the choice, I don't ask 'what do we do?', I just do it. And that doesn't work...for a- ah- a whatever it was we had.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, not knowing what else to say.

“I guess maybe I'm explaining it to myself,” she said with a sigh. “Trying to stop myself from feeling 'right'. Like it was you versus me. I know that's not how things are supposed to work...between two people, but I don't know any other way.”

“If you left because you didn't want _me_ to hurt _you_ , it wouldn't have made me so angry,” he admitted quietly.

“But that wasn't why. I just didn't want you to live with what would happen if I did...” She laughed, quiet and sad. “And then I went and fucking died anyways. Shit, Garrus.”

“Sure worked out well for you,” he drawled quietly, and she laughed.

“Yeah, I sure aced that one!”

They laughed together quietly, and he could feel some of the tension easing. When she fell silent with a sigh, he smiled to himself in the dark. "Hey. Go ahead and eat one of those pouches for me, would you?"

"Ew," she said tiredly, but he listened as she twisted the seal of one to crack it open. They sat in silence as she downed the muck, and this time he passed her the water when she asked for it. He knew Faith knew how to take care of herself. When she finished, he listened to her lie back down, but stayed where he was, arms on his knees, staring into the pitch black.

"So...hi, Garrus."

"Hi, Faith."

"You just gonna sit there on the floor?"

“Yeah, sorry, I ah- let's just...give it all a little time, all right? You're free, that's the most important thing. I know it's been nothing to you, but for me it's been...a while.”

“I get that I went too far grabbing at you and stuff- I'm sorry, I-”

Exasperation rose, but fondly. “Faith, I just kidnapped you and drugged you and had your head cut open, I think I understand that you were shaken up. Can we please shelf the apologies already?”

She laughed, tired. “Yeah. But...do you think- I know not right now, maybe not right away- but I miss my best friend, Garrus.”

All the bitterness, all the anger- it wasn't just going to disappear, but...she helped. Closing his eyes, he reached blindly back. Eventually his hand nudged into something, and he heard her shift. With both hands she reached out and slowly tugged off his glove, hesitating a few times like she was afraid he was going to stop her. It was one of the things he always found funny about Faith...that she thought even for a second that he could _ever_ stop her. She could drag him to the end of the galaxy and lure him into the dark past the edge and he'd go happily.

The glove finally dropped, and her fingers, soft and smooth and warm, slid over the back of his hand. He turned it over, and she grasped his palm. He tugged her closer, pulling her arm off the bed and over his shoulder.

“I'm right here.”

Her small fingers tucked between his, linking them together, and she curled up against the back of his shoulders where they rested against the bed. This was easier for him. He felt bad about pushing her away before, but- he was so damn confused. Time. It'd take time. He'd been betrayed, lost almost all his crew, she'd shown up out of nowhere, but it wasn't her, and now it was, and...

Damn it, he just needed to breathe right now.

And she made it next to impossible- she always had.

“Just sleep, Trouble. Just sleep. We've got some time to kill and you need it.”

“I'm still Trouble?” she asked quietly, fingers tightening in his.

Maybe they were battered and bruised, but they were both tough- they'd heal.

“For me? Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D happy tuesday! [I will never apologize for punk covers of TSwift. Enjoy a song :P ](https://open.spotify.com/track/4LtWzWV22RQJI8fCtPVunn)


	14. Chapter 14

The room they'd operated on her in didn't get any less creepy with the lights on.

Lowered lights adjusted her sensitive vision while Garrus ducked outside to take care of the very minor mission she'd asked him to handle. Not far, just to pick up something a guy he knew had rustled up from...somewhere. She didn't want him far. They'd both agreed that Cerberus was probably already hunting her- and the fact that they hadn't found her in the past twelve hours meant the removals had been successful.

Her right eye still felt weirdly swollen, a slight pressure behind it that Garrus assured her wasn't visible.

While she waited on him, she started pulling on her armor piece by piece, noting the bloodstains on the inside of the chestpiece's collar. Absently she lifted a hand to the back of her neck, examining the spot he'd explained the emergency tracker was. Still a bit swollen from the trauma, but okay.

Her fingers seemed to keep finding the spots she'd been cut into, a nervous little twitch. It wasn't like she'd never had surgery before, but...it was where they'd put _things_ inside of her. Granted, not nearly as bad of things as she'd feared, but...

The pressure in her temple was starting to grow worse, and as she squinted against the low light, it began to condense to a smaller and smaller area. And then abruptly it was needle-sharp and agonizing. The stab pierced inward like a drill, through her temple and into her brain. She could feel it in her teeth. Why did it hurt so much?

Crumpling onto the ground, cringing in on herself, she brought up her omni-tool, but found it unresponsive. Shit, shit. Right, they'd disabled it. Her whole body was tensing against the pain, muscles rigid, knees to her chest, eyes growing wet and hot.

What the hell was wrong with her?

It had probably only been seconds, but it felt like an eternity when the door slid open again. She heard Garrus curse, and then a cacophony of sound from the stupid plastic sheeting. He fell next to her on his knees, pulling her in and carefully untangling her hands from where they were digging into her skull.

“Stop, stop. Give me just a second, I've got you,” he promised her, voice for once not soothing enough to comfort her.

It felt like someone was pounding a burning-hot spike into her brain.

“What did Mordin do?” she asked, choked. She barely felt it as he released her, too busy trying not to clench her jaw, hands starting to shake.

“The transmitter was wired directly into your nervous system. It'll repair itself, but your body's looking for something that isn't there, and that's going to send some panic signals to the brain until the cybernetics fix it.”

He didn't pull her up, offer her any pills. Instead, he slid a hand under her hair and pressed something to the back of her neck. She felt the tiny bite of a needle, practically nothing in her current state. It felt like ice swept through her from the contact, cooling down her feverish brain and banishing the stabbing sensation. It took no time at all, blessed numbness flooded through her system, leaving her shaking.

“Damn it, Mordin was right,” Garrus murmured, reaching for her shaking hands again, his own big and secure. “It'll be over soon.”

“It already is,” she said faintly, trying to blink away tears that clung to her lashes and trickled down her cheeks. “What the...what do you mean, Mordin was right?”

Garrus gave her hands a squeeze, and released her. It felt so weirdly natural, like it was something they'd always done- except it wasn't. It had been impossible before. “The analgesics weren't supposed to wear off for another twenty minutes. He said you had some resistance.”

“I could have told you that,” she murmured, and then, a little spitefully, “if you'd _told_ me.”

“Sorry. A lot on my mind. You know, saving your life, possibly becoming a fugitive...and then the equally important task of picking up some random junk you insisted was necessary,” Garrus replied, humor unimpacted by her sulking.

“It's very necessary,” she said, letting him help her back to her feet. When he reached for her armor, she shooed him away. It felt too intimate to let him help her, and things were...they were weird. She was clinging to the fact that he'd promised they were still friends, but everything they'd been through was still on the surface for her.

Survival mode was over, and all it meant was that she'd been plunged into a second level of weirdness where she had to face the actual reality of what two years was. Two whole fucking years. Years where people had slandered her, mourned her, made up some enshrined version of her that wasn't actually real. But not right now.

Now she had to get back to her ship.

“I didn't bring my shotgun, this requires a shotgun,” she said, grabbing her gloves and shoving them into her helmet. “I need your shotgun.”

“Why does this require a shotgun?” Garrus responded. He was standing near the door, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, a move she wanted to tell him off for. He didn't get to reject her and then stand around being sexy, it was unfair.

Okay, maybe he hadn't rejected her because they hadn't even gone there, but...

It felt that way.

“The shotgun is the weapon that looks coolest being held, Garrus.”

“So why can't I hold the shotgun? It's my shotgun.”

“Can we stop saying shotgun before the word stops meaning anything? Because this is my cool moment! I need to max out my cool stat. I've had to kiss Miranda's ass for like...way too long, I need to take my power back, and for that I need your shotgun,” she explained, in her most reasonable voice.

“All right, but I get your assault rifle.”

“Fine. Fix my omni-tool, would you?” She closed the distance and stuck her arm out at him.

Garrus stared at her, arms still folded over his chest. “Is that how you ask for a favor?”

“It's not a favor! You're the one who disabled it!” she retorted, exasperated and amused all at once. It was funny how things just fell back into place when she stopped worrying and overthinking. Their old banter and back and forth came as natural as breathing. When his only response was a tight shrug, she sighed. “Can you _please_ fix my omni-tool so I can call Joker, oh Archangel, god among hackers?”

She could _hear_ the smile in his voice. “Well, when you put it like that...”

“Sorry, didn't realize your ego reserves were low. I'll instruct the crew to start kissing your ass,” she said, brightening when her omni-tool finally came back online. “Ah! Thank you!”

“I thought it was the Commander's ass we were supposed to be saluting.”

“The Commander's ass needs some recovery time in the gym before it's worth saluting again,” she said absently. Calling up the Normandy didn't take long. She stood there, maybe a little too close, painfully aware that he was looming over her, arms folding back over his chest.

“Hey, Joker.”

She'd set it to audible, Joker's voice crackling out, less frantic than it should be. He wasn't as good an actor as she was. “What the hell, Faith?! You disappeared, everyone's been in a panic! Are you okay? Why the hell is Miranda saying Garrus kidnapped you? They're already making plans to sweep Omega, she's had me monitoring every departure from the station, and-”

“I'm on my way back,” she replied easily, voice calm and confident. “Everything's fine now. I'm fine now. Garrus is with me, we're on our way back. Tell Miranda I order her to stand down. Call off any reinforcements.”

“Order?” he asked carefully.

“I said what I said, Joker.”

The long sigh of relief made her smile, and she heard Garrus chuckle from behind her.

“Thank god, I'm sick as hell of all this. It's good to have you back, Commander.”

“It's good to be back. Tell Grunt that I want him waiting at the entrance to the spaceport for me, and to ignore anyone that tells him otherwise. Call everyone else to the briefing room, including Karin, and I want you listening in.”

“Understood, Commander. Out.”

The call ended, and she dismissed her omni-tool, unslinging the assault rifle from her back. They traded, and then he passed her the small case she'd had him pick up. Beaming, she flipped it open, examining the contents.

“I can't believe you found this.”

Garrus chuckled. “You can find anything on Omega if you know the right people. Grunt?”

“He can play bodyguard,” she said fondly.

“There's no way Miranda doesn't know what we did.”

“Good for her. Maybe she should have spent less time underestimating me,” Shepard said, grabbing the aviator sunglasses out of the case and opening them with a flick of her wrist. Sliding them onto her nose, she flashed a smirk up at him.

He laughed, stepping back to let the door slide open, voice low with amused approval. “And it's not like you engineered that at all, did you?”

“If I didn't know better, I'd think you were happy I lied, Garrus. Not very turian of you.” She stepped out past him, helmet tucked securely under her arm.

Garrus followed her, taking the lead once they left the alleys behind. “We both know I'm not a good turian, Shepard. So, what are you going to do about Miranda?”

The feeling she was wrapped in now was probably something best suited for a poetic flight of fancy, something like 'her soul could breathe again', which made absolutely no sense to logic. But she could feel it. Being able to talk about what she was planning, having someone she could trust to talk to again...it was like being able to take a deep breath again after months of drowning in her lungs.

“I still need her,” she finally said, too content to be irritated with that. “If I kick her off, it might upset things. We need to shake things up just enough to still get things done. I can swing this, massage the situation. The most important thing we need to do is keep in control, tempers cool.”

“It's harder to do these days,” he admitted.

Instinctively, she gently cuffed the back of his shoulder, keeping her voice easy. “We've been through a lot. I know you can do it, though. There's no one I believe in more than you.”

He kept ahead, his back to her, and when he spoke she was glad for it. “When you say things like that it makes me believe it's possible. I...missed that.”

Embarrassed, she tapped her fingers against her helmet, cheeks feeling warm. “It's just words.”

“Not coming from you.”

Garrus said it so casually that it upset her, embarrassment twisting around into exasperation.

Why was it so easy for him?

Ass.

There were things she wanted to say to him, but it wasn't the time. He needed space. She understood that, and as much as it grated at her and she hated it, she had to respect him enough to shelve her control issues and let him dictate what he was comfortable with. It was going to be hard, though.

She wanted to know it all- what had happened on Citadel, how he'd ended up on Omega. It felt like the last thing he needed right now was to talk to _her_ about it, though. Maybe he would eventually.

Faith could be a good friend- she just had to put in the effort.

Their trek back was in companionable silence, eventually wandering side by side as they made their way back towards the spaceport. Omega...she hadn't even thought that her whole little scheme would have ended up back here when she started it. Shit. Wait...

She grabbed Garrus' elbow, stalling him. He turned in towards her, people brushing by them. “What, don't tell me you're having second thoughts.”

“I'm sorry,” she said quickly, regret rising. “I didn't think about you coming back here, after everything, it- just that I'm sorry.”

“And here I was hoping you were finally ready to go rogue,” he joked, and then chuckled when she wrinkled her nose at him.

“This is about as rogue as I get, Cowboy.”

“The galaxy _would_ be screwed if you went evil, it's true,” Garrus said, yet again dodging the point.

“You don't want to talk about it. That's fine,” she said with a little sigh. “I just wanted to say I was sorry.”

The casual humor in his voice cracked just a little, “I'm trying my best not to snap at you for apologizing again when I told you to stop.”

“Yeah, but this is a _new_ thing I fucked up, Garrus!”

“I made the choice, not you.”

Sighing in annoyance as he turned his back on her and kept walking, Shepard briefly lifted her hands and throttled the air. Why was he being so difficult about it? She didn't remember him being this much of a pain in the ass. Hell, she didn't remember him ever really pushing back against her like this before.

Later.

She could deal with figuring out what was going on later.

Right now it was time to get everything out in the open so she could finally stop feeling like she was constantly on edge. She'd broken the shell, cracked the egg, now she had to clean up the fucking mess. Except the mess was her.

Shepard was the mess.

“Man, do you know how many messages I have waiting for me that I haven't looked at?” she asked, ducking into the elevator and leaning against the wall. Garrus took a similar posture, crossing his arms and glancing over at her.

“You didn't even answer your messages?”

“Only Admiral Hackett's,” she admitted, lifting both shoulders in a shrug. “Anything else felt personal- I know, paranoid. I've got like...a hundred billion of them, I made the mistake of messaging someone and somehow my new message address got leaked. At least they didn't get my comm address.”

“It's not paranoia if it's true,” Garrus pointed out.

The elevator opened and they both pushed off the wall, Shepard leading the way this time. “Mmmh, I'm sure they've already got a line ready for me. Let me guess. 'Only used in an emergency'.”

“Modifications to the plan made by 'rogue elements',” Garrus said with heavy sarcasm- she could hear the air quotes. They headed down the stairs, turning a corner into the port proper. Grunt was waiting for them at the bottom of a ramp, arms crossed.

“Oh, oh, I know! Miranda installed them so she can grade my performance for my Cerberus end of term report card. If I get a perfect score we get a pizza party and ice cream.”

“I do like ice cream,” Garrus mused. “Let's go back and replace the implants.”

Shepard snickered.

They met Grunt, who gave them both a vaguely suspicious look as they headed into the port. She flashed him a wink and slapped him on the arm, pushing him along ahead of them. “Don't worry about it. I just don't want Miranda getting any ideas. You're good at stopping people from having ideas.”

“I found the panic pointless. Either you were dead, you failed to overcome your enemies, or you were gone because you wanted to be,” Grunt said dourly, making Shepard snicker.

“Third one. Cerberus put some recording devices in my head I needed to get rid of,” she admitted cheerfully.

“Are we killing them?”

“I like him,” Garrus remarked.

Faith hid a smile. “Nah, I don't think so. Our goal is the same at this point in time, their methods just needed some correction. Some elements on board need some reminding why the fuck they brought me back to life in the first place.” Unslinging the shotgun from her back, she followed behind Grunt, resting the weapon against her shoulder.

Garrus copied the motion, and then returned her fist bump when she held it out towards it. “Let's do this, Trouble.”

Shepard adjusted her sunglasses. “Fuck yeah.”

It was absolutely no surprise to Garrus that Miranda was waiting for them the minute they got onboard, practically hovering in front of the airlock.

He had to give her at least a little credit- she looked completely composed and unsurprised. Her gaze shifted across them, lingering on him for a few seconds longer than necessary. He didn't say a word- this wasn't his show right now.

“Shepard...”

“Commander,” Faith corrected lazily, steel underneath. “I believe my orders were that everyone meet in the briefing room.”

Still overtly unruffled, Miranda replied, “Commander, I need to-”

“Go. To the briefing room,” Faith interrupted her, relaxed apart from a single finger tapping idly on his shotgun across her shoulder. “Your obedience is expected and appreciated.”

Damn, that was a good line.

There was about a three second staredown between them, but Faith stayed relaxed, one eyebrow very slightly raised. There was even a hint of a smile on her lips. When Miranda abruptly turned around and walked stiffly away, he heard Faith chuckle faintly under her breath.

Garrus should probably not be finding this sexy- it really wasn't the time.

“Hey, Joker! Please eavesdrop!” Shepard called up towards the front of the ship.

“Way ahead of you!” he shouted back.

Shepard tilted her head to both of them in a beckon, and Garrus and Grunt fell in. He followed her lead and kept armed, but relaxed, sauntering along behind her slowly. She didn't seem to be in any hurry- he presumed to let Miranda get in ahead of them and give them a few seconds to stew.

They passed by the map and headed through the armory, which reminded him that he did have to get back to modifying Shepard's visor. She'd probably need it- though in its previous state it wasn't much better than going without a targeting system. The pre-loaded ones were always garbage. They needed proper customization to be worth a damn.

The door to the briefing room opened, and all eyes turned towards them. Well, on Grunt, who practically blocked the doorway before he thumped through, glancing around the room. He gave a faint 'hmph', and then moved to the side, flanking the door.

Miranda was standing at the head of the table, Jacob next to her at rest. Jack was as far as possible from them, arms crossed as she slumped in a corner. Kasumi was sitting on the opposite end of the table, facing the door with her legs under her, and Doctor Chakwas was standing at the table next to Mordin, her arms lightly crossed.

He was relieved to see Mordin wasn't in the brig- they shared a nod.

Shepard took a survey of the room, and then gestured him to the left of the door. He took a hint and leaned against the wall opposite grunt, up-nodding the nearby Jack. She snoted at him and rolled her eyes.

The doors slid closed behind Shepard, but she didn't move. Keeping the shotgun on her shoulder, she tossed her helmet to Kasumi, who caught it and set it on the table next to her. Sweeping off her sunglasses, Shepard tucked them on top of her head, and smiled.

“Lawson, would you like to tell everyone why we're here today?” Shepard asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Are the weapons necessary, Commander?” Miranda replied quietly. “You are the only ones currently armed.”

“I guess Miranda doesn't feel like sharing with the class,” Faith said, rather than answer her. There was a smile on her face, and she took a second to glance across each person before returning to Miranda. “Let's go for the brief. Cerberus installed monitoring implants in my fucking head. Audio, visual, and tracking, in a gross invasion of my personal privacy. Thanks to Mordin and Garrus, they are now gone.”

Watching for it out of curiosity, he saw Jacob's eyes flick towards Miranda. He had a hard face to read, but Garrus monitored it anyways. Would be interesting to see where his loyalties were.

“Which, if you had come to me, Commander, you would know were installed only for use in an emergency situation- there were attempts before to obtain your body while we were trying to bring you to Project Lazarus, and we were trying to ensure your safety,” Miranda replied, without even a flinch. Garrus had to hand it to her- she was good.

“See? I win,” Shepard told him.

Garrus glanced over with a faint chuckle. “We didn't actually bet anything on it.”

“Damn it!” she cursed, and then heaved a long sigh. “If the implants weren't transmitting, Doctor Solus wouldn't have been able to _find_ them so easily, Miranda. Isn't that right?”

“Correct,” Mordin said crisply.

He'd gone back to watching Miranda and Jacob, and he had to hide a smile when that finally cracked her perfect facade. She gave Mordin a look, eyes widening.

“I was not made aware that they were,” Miranda finally said, simply.

“But you did oversee them being put in.”

Her chin lowered in a half-nod. “That is correct.”

“So you didn't think this was something I should have been informed of...” Her voice went lower, smooth and easy, and he knew what was coming. Oh, he knew what was coming. Unconsciously, he stiffened his shoulders as he waited for Shepard to speak. Her voice scaled up to the perfectly-enunciated, emotionless bellow that he remembered so well. “From the VERY! FUCKING! BEGINNING?!”

“I-”

“The answer is YES, MA'AM!”

Garrus tried not to snicker as Jacob straightened up, hands clasping behind his back. Yep, that was military right there. Hell, Garrus wasn't even Alliance and she could do it to him.

“Yes, ma'am,” Miranda said, tightly.

Shepard's stance relaxed. “We follow orders on this ship, Miranda. Whose?”

Miranda's face was very stiff now, more mask than perfect calm. “Yours, Commander.”

“Taylor, were you aware of this?” Shepard asked, eyes sliding sidelong.

“No, ma'am,” he replied crisply.

“I believe you. You've given me no reason not to,” she told him, and slung the shotgun over her shoulder.

Garrus took the cue, and did the same. A sidelong glance proved he wasn't the only one enjoying the show- Jack was grinning from ear to ear. Shepard let out a long sigh, and reached up, tucking both hands behind her head as she stared across at Miranda.

“Every single recording device will be removed from this ship. Garrus and Mordin will see to it. If you want to keep them in your office, hey, that's your prerogative, but the rest of the ship will be cleaned. I will not give up my fundamental right to privacy, nor will I ask my crew to give up theirs.”

“Will it remain my office?” Miranda asked.

“Yes. I just hope that if there are any other 'minor details' that have been neglected to be shared with me, I will be informed soon. Let's be clear. Telling me 'I should have asked' is bullshit and if I ever learn something like this again and you give me that excuse...the consequences will be much higher than me getting snippy,” Shepard said in a lazy, friendly drawl, and then glanced over at Doctor Chakwas. “Karin, can we talk?”

“Of course, Commander.”

“Joker, since we're nearby...let's head to Amada for the Admiral. Might as well get it out of the way,” Shepard said casually, but he could hear a sudden tension now underneath. Her shoulders were stiffer, and the line of her jaw was tight.

What was waiting at their destination?

“Aye aye, Commander.”

“Dismissed,” Shepard said, turning away, the door sliding open again.

She disappeared through the door, and Miranda spun and paced out the opposite one, Jacob behind her. Doctor Chakwas followed Shepard, giving him a brief clasp on the arm as she went. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Just doing my job,” he replied, reaching up and patting her hand briefly before she left. “Joker?”

“Yeah, Garrus?”

“What's our mission in Amada?” he asked, cautiously.

“Finding what's left of the Normandy SR-1,” Joker said from above, sounding a bit tired.

Shit.

“Understood.”

“Sucks for you, I guess,” Jack said dismissively, heading for the door to follow Grunt out. “Fuck, I wish I'd brought some popcorn, that was fucking amazing.”

To his complete lack of surprise, Kasumi had disappeared.

“Sending mapped locations of 'bugs' to your omni-tool now,” Mordin said with his usual efficiency, bringing up his omni-tool. “Suggest we split floors for maximum efficiency. I will handle deck three and four. Acceptable?”

“Works for me,” Garrus replied, still distracted by the information. He accepted the data transfer, and brought up the map on his omni-tool. “I'll start in here, then. Thanks again, Mordin.”

“No thanks necessary. Interesting to see changes in Commander's behavior.”

Garrus chuckled weakly to himself as Mordin left, leaving him alone in the briefing room. Staring down at his omni-tool, he frowned at it. The SR-1...

Was now really the time to be handling something like that?

Well, she didn't have to hide anything any more. Maybe facing this was what she needed now to help her start coming to terms with everything that had happened. He just knew how hard she took losing people under her command. It wasn't going to be easy.

But he was at her back.

Unfortunately, thinking about it just brought up the bodies and the failure and everything he was trying to push down and keep aside until he could deal with it. Not now, though. It wasn't time to face that yet, there were things to do.

Shaking his head, trying to get thoughts of Amir's ashen face, his dead hands still holding his gun- the hole through Frankie's left eye and out the back of her skull, the torn, missing limbs he never found, the-

He made the call before he realized what he was doing.

Shepard's pleasantly crackly, soothingly rolling voice immediately relaxed him. “Hey you, sorry. Talking to the doc.”

“One thing. I need to clear the top floor of bugs when I'm done here, unlock your door?”

“I'll just put you on the lock,” Shepard dismissed. “What are you gonna do, rob me?”

“Might, if you hoard the good whiskey.”

“Hmmh,” she murmured, and he could hear her smile. “I'd probably deserve it, then. All yours, Cowboy. And thanks.”

“It's for Cerberus, not you. I wouldn't want to subject them to you singing in the shower, Shepard.”

“Asshole!” she protested, and hung up on him.

Feeling a little better, he turned to the task at hand.

Faith helped.


	15. Chapter 15

“Why are you being so difficult about keeping yourself fed?”

Blowing out a sigh, well-aware that this scolding was deserved, Shepard swung her legs over the side of the med-bay table like a kid and crossed her arms. “I've never had to _think_ about food before!”

“You're going through all of this,” Karin said, staring at the datapad, fingers tapping away, “in order to be able to eat food, Commander. Need I remind you? Thirty seven point eight.”

“Thirty seven's not a high temperature,” she said dubiously, and that got her another look. In her defense, she really felt fine. Well, kind of weak and tired, and still a bit stuffy, but otherwise fine.

“Thirty seven point _eight_ is a low grade fever, Faith.”

“Low grade,” she said.

Karin gave her a very flat look.

At a sharp gesture, she unfolded her arms and extended her wrist for examination. The other surgery sites had already been looked over. She held still for the scan, until Karin gave a faint 'hmm'.

“Doctor Solus seems to be excellent at working under pressure. Your hemoglobin level isn't low enough to require a blood transfusion, but it's going to require additions to your diet for the next few days to make up for what you've lost.”

“I don't like steak,” Shepard complained, nose wrinkling. “Or eggs. Why does everything taste weird? This was supposed to be like some sort of revelatory experience for me but all the revelations are bad.”

She was very well aware that she was being a complete butthead, but the relief that she was feeling now had made her a little giddy. Silly. And apparently she was using her newfound freedom to be a pain in Karin's ass.

“Your palate needs time to adjust,” Karin said with a faint sigh. “Everything is going to taste strange when you're used to very mild, almost non-existent flavors. This is a well-known phenomenon, which I told you about when we _began_ this process. Even the food you've always been capable of eating has always been very low in sodium content. I noticed you don't use soy sauce with your sushi.”

“It's too salty.”

“Exactly. I don't believe you've ever even had processed sugar, have you?”

“Isn't that a good thing?”

“Yes and no. The key to a healthy relationship with food is moderation, not denial. I'm going to explain this to you one more time, Faith. You have to eat things...in order to become accustomed to eating things. You cannot keep ignoring food and sneaking emergency ration bars, or you're going to ruin the progress you've made.”

“I'm sorry. It's just the textures, and flavors, they're weird. Who even likes eating eggs? And I'm...completely proving your point right now, aren't I?”

“Yes,” Karin said simply. “I thought simple preparations were best, but it seems to not be the case. I'll instruct the Mess Sargent to lower the sodium levels in your food, and we'll find another way to introduce eggs into your diet, but in exchange you are going to eat what you are given.”

“A low sodium diet is good for the body,” Faith said with a wrinkle of her nose.

“If you keep this up I'll amend the produce order waiting at Citadel for you. Do you want watermelon or not?”

“Karin, you-” Shepard was momentarily speechless.

Ruthless!

Doctor Chakwas crossed her arms and stared at Shepard. “Or I could remove the mangoes.”

Shepard grabbed her chest, feeling like she'd had the wind knocked out of her. No. No way Karin would do that to her, would she? “I'll behave,” she promised quickly. “I swear!”

Almost as if she hadn't been just threatening her, Karin unfolded her arms and picked up the datapad again, glancing down at it. “There is a minor bacterial infection your body is fighting right now, likely due to the surgery. I recommend skipping tomorrow's injection, and-”

“No way,” Faith denied instantly. “This I can't budge on. I'll be fine. It'll be over by morning if it's so minor.”

“There's no way to predict that right now, you might be fine to an outside view, but the impromptu surgery was still hard on your system, and you're still fighting off that virus as well. The issues with the nerves in your temple...”

Faith unconsciously lifted a hand to the now-invisible spot. “I can feel it in my eyeball and my _teeth_. It's freaky.”

“It's called the trigeminal nerve. It does indeed reach to both your eye and your teeth, as well as other parts of the face. There must be some damage to it from the removal. Your cybernetics should repair it within the next three days. You have thorazedine in your system, which is a bit stronger than I'd prefer that you take...”

The instinctive urge to defend reared its ugly head. “They did what they had to. The pain is really bad, Karin. If Garrus hadn't used it...”

“I'm not upset with him for giving it to you, or Mordin for choosing it- from what you tell me it's a minor miracle that this all worked out so well. But neither of them are your doctor, and I don't feel comfortable with you taking it for the next three days. It's highly physically addictive. I don't want you dealing with withdrawal symptoms on top of everything else you're battling right now. We'll try a lidocaine injection when you start feeling the pain again.”

“You're gonna stick a needle in my face?”

“I'm going to stick a needle in your face,” Karin agreed. “Go eat before you leave. And...Faith?”

Shepard pushed off the table with a thump, and glanced over with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“I am not your other doctors. You don't get to bully me,” Karin said coolly, staring down at her datapad. As Shepard gawked at her, she lifted a hand and waved it dismissively. “That is all. You can leave. Tell Garrus I need to change his bandages.”

“I-” Shepard managed to squeak.

“I said that was all.”

Head hanging, thoroughly destroyed, Shepard left the medi-bay. She lifted her omni-tool and brought up a call by rote, not even really needing to look at her comm list. Not a ton of people on it any more, really.

“Just finishing up.”

“Doc says go get your bandages changed.”

“On it, thanks,” Garrus said, and ended the call.

As she slumped her way over to the mess, she heard Joker laughing at her before she lifted her head, giving him a watery look. He leaned around in his seat, craning his head at her.

“You look like someone just kicked your puppy.”

“I was just outmaneuvered on a battlefield I thought I was in full control of,” she sighed, moving to take a seat across from Jacob.

Apart from the two of them, Hawthorne and Gabi from engineering were there waiting on lunch. She really hadn't been making much of an effort to get to know everyone before, but things were different now, and that could change. Shepard would take some time wandering around and really get to know everyone.

She'd done a survey and it honestly seemed like most of them were here for her, not for Cerberus. Probably another ploy by the Illusive Man to get her to trust them. She needed these people, though, and trusting them- and getting them to trust her probably wasn't a bad idea. Now that she was free, Shepard should start treating them like they _were_ her crew.

And...she'd even apologize to Chambers for stranding her on Citadel.

“You can't win against the doc, you should know that by now,” Joker told her with a shake of his head.

“A war lost to surrender is more shameful than one fought to the death,” Shepard replied serenely, and then leaned over to peer into the mess kitchen. The Sarge was hard at work. “I've been ordered to eat food or suffer the consequences. The consequence is no mangoes.”

“In that case... _please_ eat, Commander,” Gabi called down the table to her, hopefully.

“Yeah, I'm with Gabi,” Jacob agreed with a chuckle. “Don't get us all punished, Commander. You know how rare it is to get decent food like this.”

Faith scowled. “What happened to loyalty? What happened to trust in your Commander? Know I do what I do not because the battle is easy, but-”

“Because you're an asshole,” Joker finished lazily.

“This is why we got divorced,” she sniped at him, reaching out and lightly tugging down the bill of his cap. He took a swipe at her, which she didn't block. Faith took the smack to the back of her head with an arched eyebrow.

“We got divorced because you sold my most prized possessions to fund your gambling addiction.”

“Who cares? You promised you'd give up pony play when we got married anyways!” Joker retorted.

Damn it, he won this time. Laughing, she slapped a hand over her mouth, leaning forward until her head bumped into the table. Oh god, it felt good to laugh. Jacob's disgusted noise just had her laughing harder.

“What-” Gabi started uncertainly. “What's pony play?”

“What's a pony?”

The familiar, pleasantly dual-toned voice came from behind her, and Shepard finally lifted her head to crane it over the back of her seat, laughter trailing off to a self-satisfied chuckle. Garrus reached down and poked her in the middle of the forehead as she peered up at him. Grimacing, she rubbed it.

“Watch the talons, they're too sharp. A pony is a tiny horse.”

“Does he know what a horse is?” Joker asked dubiously.

“Yes, I know what a horse is,” Garrus said exasperatedly. Shepard stuck out her tongue at him, and he snorted in amusement. “I'm not blunting my talons just because I'm on a ship full of squishy humans, do you know what they _say_ about a guy with blunted talons?”

“No,” she replied, and then scowled when he stepped around the table and headed into the mess. Leaning forward, she glared at his back as he walked away. “You're supposed to tell me!”

“You wouldn't get it, Shepard, it's a guy thing. Walking away now.”

“I could get it,” Shepard groused, glancing between Hawthorne, Joker, and Jacob as they all shared significant glances. She looked at Gabi, who shrugged.

“I still don't know what pony play is,” she said.

“It's-” Joker's hand slapped over Faith's mouth, so she finished with hand gestures and mumbled noises. Then she licked his palm.

“You're fucking gross,” he complained, wiping his hand on his uniform.

“Interesting to meet the real Commander Shepard,” Jacob said, not bothering to hide the smirk. “She's different than I expected.”

“No hard feelings for the little charade, I hope,” Shepard replied, watching Garrus reheat basic dextro rations across the way. She frowned, nose wrinkling. That really wasn't fair, making him eat that while everyone else got real food...but they only had one kitchen. Still, maybe there was something she could do.

“Nah. Well. I get it, at least,” Jacob said, giving a long sigh. “But just... you know. Not suggesting you give Miranda a break or anything, but-”

“Relax,” Shepard assured him with a smile. “I know you two have worked together for a while, and I respect that you want to defend her. As far as I'm concerned, I said everything I needed to say, and unless anything else happens, that's _all_ that needs to be said or done.”

“Commander's fair,” Joker agreed, and then scowled at the shocked look she gave him. “What?”

“Are you...are you defending me?” she asked, clutching her chest. It just felt natural that Garrus pulled out the chair next to her and sat down- she didn't even give it a thought until she realized she hadn't given it a thought.

“Wait, Joker is defending you?” Garrus asked, pretending to be shocked. Joker glared at both of them.

When Gardner called that the first round of food was ready, Gabi, Jacob, and Hawthorne waved them off and went to get it. Shepard beamed her thanks at them, and turned her attention to Garrus' meal. Sad heated rations in various shades of beige and red, like they'd had on the SR-1. Still better than paste, though.

“I'll fix that,” she promised him, nodding at the tray.

“It's fine,” he told her with a faint chuckle.

“I said I'm gonna do it and I'm gonna do it, you big dumb dinosaur.”

“Overgrown pyjak.”

“Bitch,” she sniped.

“Bitch.”

At her high-pitched gasp of mock-horror in response to the returned insult, Garrus turned his head to look down at her. His voice was slow and amused. “Don't start the fight if you can't take a hit.”

“It's only one battle won, don't get cocky. There's still the rest of the war to kick your ass, Vakarian,” she retorted. And then smirked. “If I can find your ass, that is. Maybe I'll need a microscope.”

“Oh no, now I have to put up with this shit again,” Joker groused, taking his plate from Jacob as he returned. The sight distracted her from whatever it was that Joker meant.

Oh no.

She stared at his plate, eyes narrowing. Looking slightly over-cooked, a cheeseburger sat in the middle of his plate next to some sad french fries- something she knew she couldn't have yet. The cheeseburger _was_ something she'd have to suffer through.

Gabi set a plate in front of her with a smile that she returned with a confident tip of her head. The enemy before her, though... Shepard stared down at the cheeseburger dubiously. The idea of eating things seemed far superior to the reality of eating things.

“Isn't it like...cow assholes?”

Jacob shot her a dark look over his own plate as he sat down. “Shepard.”

“I'm sorry, it's just...you have to understand. After I got diagnosed with like, every allergy, they made the very poor choice to put me on an all nutrient paste diet, which destroyed any hope I had of actually eating food. I spent the last ten years finding new and exciting allergies because of it. Can you imagine what a cheeseburger looks and tastes like to someone who has never had one?”

“Twelve,” Joker said.

“What?” Shepard asked.

“Twelve years now,” Garrus said.

“Hey, you're almost thirty!” Joker exclaimed.

“I fucking hate,” she said, gesturing between them. “You both.”

“It's not cow assholes, it's perfectly fine beef, and you don't look a day over twenty five,” Jacob interjected smoothly, earning her sunniest smile, well aware she was being placated. He returned it, and then shook his head. “Please don't ruin this for me, Commander.”

“Okay, okay, eat your burger,” she retorted, and then proceeded to start dissecting hers. Why was it _pink_ on the inside? Why were there _vegetables_ on it? As she slid the slices of something weird and purple-edged out of the burger, Joker gave her an unamused look.

“It's onion. You said you can eat alliums now.”

“It's said that onions make people cry. Do you want me to be sad?” She was pulling the burger patty out of the bun when he sighed at her.

“What's wrong with the burger?”

“It's a weird color,” she said, trying to separate the cheese from it. She did like cheese- at least the vegan stuff she'd had before. She could eat real cheese now! That was good. Unless her body decided she couldn't any more.

Which it might.

“Because it's not turkey! This is the color beef is supposed to be!” Joker said exasperatedly.

The woebegone look she turned up at Garrus was strictly ignored as Joker re-assembled her burger. Betrayed by both of her best friends, she looked back at the burger dubiously as it sat in the innocuous mass-produced bun. No. She had to defeat Karin.

Lifting it in both hands, she stared at it for a few seconds before taking a big bite.

Ugh, it was wet.

Well aware she was hovering too close to being annoying, she just chewed and tried to control her expression. Okay, the texture wasn't _that_ far off from ground turkey, but it was definitely wetter. The flavor was vastly different, though.

And then the second bite...

The sharp, astringent bite of the onions was overwhelming, and she couldn't taste anything else. Oh god, it was in her mouth and she couldn't just swallow, she'd choke. She either had to spit it out in front of everyone, or keep chewing. Both seemed equally bad.

She turned a pitiful look on Joker, who was watching her with openly malicious amusement. “It's a cheeseburger, Shepard. You're the worst American ever.”

“You don't get to judge that, you're from Tiptree, not Earth,” she mumbled, and then forced herself to chew and swallow, wincing the entire time. “Ack, ack, ack. I do _not_ like onions. They're biting me back.”

“How can you love raw fish but you won't eat a burger?”

“It's just very overwhelming, that's all. I'm not used to...big flavors.” Man, even she was getting tired of this conversation. It wasn't her fault she had the palate of a five year old! It was time to change the subject anyways.

Hopefully _away_ from teasing her.

“These are really, really mild onions, Shepard,” Jacob said, giving her a dubious look.

“But I've never had them before, so...listen. About the mission today.” Shepard did her best to keep her expression calm and even. “Jacob, I was hoping you would come with us. I realize you feel let down by the Alliance, but the people we've lost should be kept separate from our feelings about decisions made above their heads. I know that you'd understand and respect that.”

His expression sobered, and he gave her a nod. “It'd be my honor, Commander. Us?”

“Hmm?”

“Just wondering who the 'us' was.”

Oh, she hadn't actually asked Garrus, she'd just assumed. He'd served on the SR-1 too, so it just seemed natural. Maybe she shouldn't do that any more, though. Was it weird to just assume? She didn't want to make things weird between them, or-

“Me,” Garrus said simply, picking up his tray. “I'll go get your visor for you. Not anticipating any hostilities?”

“Negative,” Joker said.

“Good field test for the system I put together, then.”

Shepard tapped her cheek idly as she watched him go- the habit she'd picked up as a cover for her morse-coding had seemed to stick around. Or maybe she was getting more anxious. Her eyes unfocused as the door to the battery opened and closed, her mind wandering.

She heard the Sarge sound out the call for more people to come and get their lunch- she should talk to him about how he decided who to call. It was a small thing, but that should be kept on rotation. Everyone should get a chance to go first. Again, small detail, but those things mattered.

She forced another bite of the burger, trying to eat around the onions for now.

Garrus had been kind of quiet.

She wondered if that was just new him, or if it was a symptom of new ship full of humans. Well, he hadn't been here long. Maybe he just needed some time...ugh. Time.

Two years.

“I should probably call my mom soon.”

“Uh, yeah you should,” Joker said, giving her an odd look. “And your daughter, maybe?”

Blinking, she pulled back and stared at him. “My...what?”

“Your daughter? Emi?” Joker replied, laughing a little bit. “How do you not know you adopted a kid?”

“What do you mean? Miranda said she was with a family on Earth. She was adopted, right?” Shepard replied, mind blank from shock.

“Yeah. By you? You put in the application and everything...” Joker seemed to finally realize she wasn't fucking with him, and his expression turned uneasy. “The adoption went through, Shepard. I thought you'd finished it before we left and you just didn't say anything, I-”

She could see more people were entering the mess, but her vision was blurry. The adoption had gone through? How was that fucking possible! She'd been-

“How can I fucking adopt a kid when I'm dead?!” she asked, a little too loud as she shot to her feet, hands slapping on the table.

“Anderson.”

The single word had her snapping back into focus, head jerking up as she stared at Garrus across the mess, eyes wide.

“He said you wanted her to get your survivor benefits. They made sure it went through posthumously to make sure she got them,” he explained to her quietly.

From Joker's exclamation, it seemed he hadn't known either.

She had a fucking kid?

Wait, wait...no. If she had a kid, why would Emi be on Earth with a family, then? Someone else must have adopted her after Shepard died. She could relax, it wasn't...wait, no. No.

Panic abruptly rose, almost choking her. No, no, no. No, they couldn't have possibly done that.

Mom never would have-

_And how many times did mom ask you to spend more time with them? How many times did she let him go to your competitions, try to take you out with his family? Did you ever tell her the truth?_

No.

She could feel her hands shaking, and she clutched them to her sides. Despite everything she'd done, despite everything she'd accomplished and fought and overcome, the terror that rose inside of her wasn't the fear of an adult. It was the fear of a little girl pretending to be strong.

“Who has her?! Where is she? Tell me!” she demanded, barely realizing there was an audience.

Rather than try to calm her, Garrus answered her calmly. “Your father.”

The floodgates opened, letting the panic out, her mind immediately racing. The words stumbled free- she couldn't have stopped them if she'd tried. “We have to go. We have to go get her, we have to-”

She didn't know when he'd approached her, but Garrus had her by the arm, pulling her around the table. Heart thundering in her ears, Faith followed him blindly. He wouldn't lead her astray, she didn't have to worry about where they were going, she just had to-

“Please, Garrus, we have to go get her. I know there are things- things I'm supposed to be doing, but you don't understand- you don't understand, we have to go...”

She vaguely realized he'd pulled her into the battery, but then he was pulling her in to _him_ , and she blocked out everything against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. Faith could feel herself shaking as he hugged her, the fear so much stronger than she'd ever realized it could be. Why was she still so afraid of him?

Why was she terrified of that man?

Garrus just held her as she tried not to cry, pressed in against the discomfort of his armor but not caring even a little. It was cold and hard but it was him, and it was safe. She was safe.

He couldn't hurt her any more.

When he spoke, his voice was calm and his hand was gentle as it cradled the back of her head, but she could hear the tension underneath. Every word fell one after another, cold and precise. “What...did he do to you?”

The tears finally escaped, but with them control returned to her.

She took a few deep, shuddering breaths, fighting to push back the fear. It was an instinctive, animal fear, but she was stronger than it, she could win against it. Slow, deep breaths cleared her head, and though her hands were still shaking, the rest of her body slowly stopped trembling.

Her voice was muffled, quiet, detached from the emotions that had tried to control her. “I was always afraid of him, always hated him, but I couldn't ever really tell you why...”

A huge hand grabbing her arm as she tried to walk away, gripping a little too tight. She took lots of falls, there were always bruises on her, but those- it hadn't been him, had it? Hazily she barely remembered screaming at him in the corridor because he'd tried to force her to go to his house for the weekend because mom said she could- she'd fallen when she'd turned away. Bloody nose, bruise on her cheek. Hadn't he pushed her?

No, that hadn't ever happened, had it?

“I don't think I remember everything,” she admitted quietly, something she hadn't even told Amanda. “I think he hurt me sometimes, but I don't remember much, until...”

“Until?” Garrus asked patiently, but she could hear the tight control in his voice

“When I was seventeen he took us to court to try and get me taken away from my mom- slandered her across media, said terrible shit about her. Seventeen's way too old to take a kid from their parents, but he tried to convince them I was brainwashed. It didn't help that I was so angry with him that I refused to de-escalate. I confronted him in court. Afterwards he followed me to the bathroom and-”

She paused, feeling the tension in his arms, but his quiet encouragement was nothing but gentle.

“He- he said some terrible shit to me. About how I wasted his 'investment', how I wasted my life. And more. Some of it I wouldn't repeat to you, let alone say to a kid. I said some shit back. He grabbed me by the throat, slammed me into a wall, choked me.” She felt the flex of his hand, the tension trembling along his fingers that he refused to indulge. His anger gave her strength, chased away the last of the little girl's fear. “I told him to never contact me again in exchange for not saying anything.”

“Do you think he'd hurt her?” Garrus asked, quiet but full of buried rage.

Shepard laughed bitterly. “I don't know him well, Garrus. All I know is he showed up when I was twelve and my name was in the news, tried to force me to abruptly become part of some family he'd made after abandoning us. I know he goes to the media the instant my name shows up and tries to steal any attention he can. I could show you the entire pattern of behavior that makes me not at all surprised that he's pulling this. I know he likes to control things, and Emi...”

Garrus sounded cold again. “Emi can't be controlled.”

“She also lived on the streets. Do you really think she'd realize how she's _supposed_ to be treated?”

He sighed in frustration, moving his hand to her shoulder. She let him pull her back a little, and their eyes met. Normally she'd be mortified to be seen all teary and pathetic, but he'd seen it plenty before.

“She hasn't said anything.”

“If you can honestly tell me that she would, that you're a hundred percent sure she's safe, then I'll drop it,” Shepard said, fighting all her instincts. He had more information than her right now.

“I can't,” he admitted. “I didn't like the guy when I saw him, but I thought, as long as she was safe...it didn't matter that he was an asshole. But she's not happy there, I know that at least.”

“You saw him?” she asked, voice cracking a little.

Garrus sighed, heavily, and pulled her back in against his chest again, breaking their eye contact. Safe and secure, he held her, but when he spoke again she wished it was her holding him. “At your funeral.”

Faith was silenced.

She wasn't sure what to say about it, what she even could say to somehow encompass that idea. Oh god. What could she even do to help him through everything he'd been through? She knew he needed time, and space, and she wanted to give it to him, but she also wanted to _help_.

But they could help Emi together.

She hesitantly lifted her arms, and then wrapped them around his chest, despite knowing he probably couldn't feel it through the armor.

“If- if he'd slapped me or something, grabbed me by the arm, maybe I'd- he tried to choke me, Garrus. And I'm...” The more she thought about it, those memories she'd apparently buried deep, the more convinced she was that they might be true after all. “I'm not sure that's all he did.”

“We'll get her first, worry about where to send her second,” Garrus said, tightly. “Get her off Earth and then we can worry about the details.”

She slumped, relieved. He was with her, he understood. “Thank you.”

“I want her safe as much as you do. I didn't want to talk to anyone, but she wouldn't let me pull away, and I couldn't abandon her because I knew you'd never forgive me for that.”

“I wouldn't,” she acknowledged faintly, with a hint of a sad smile.

“But Faith...I don't know that Cerberus is going to like this,” he said, pulling back again. As much as she didn't like it, she also didn't want to cling and upset him again like she had after the surgery. So she let him go, eyes averting to the floor as she wiped her face.

“If they want me, they're going to have to fucking deal with it. Let's just...focus on this mission today, and then afterwards I'll talk to Miranda. Then I guess call my mom and figure out- no. No, I can't do that, we're kidnapping and Alliance vessels are still in Alliance jurisdiction.”

“Is it kidnapping if it's your kid?” Garrus asked.

“I'm dead, kind of muddy legal ground,” Shepard said, and smiled weakly at his understanding 'mmh'. “We'll figure it out.”

“Getting her out is the important part,” Garrus agreed. “You okay for heading down to the SR-1 site?”

Pensively, she forced a tight smile and shook her head. “There's no way it's going to be easy, but it's important. For their families, and for me. I haven't really gotten to process what happened, that they're-”

She stopped, and silence stretched between them. When Faith glanced hesitantly up at his face, Garrus was staring past her, but with a distant, unseeing sort of gaze. Fingers itching to reach for him curled in against her side, pressing into her palm.

“Gone,” he finished quietly.

“Yeah. Are you sure you don't want to stay behi-”

“I need you to not- I want you to not say that again, please,” he said, and the 'please' was strained, forced in. “I will not stay behind again. Do you understand?”

It hurt, a little stab of pain that was as much for him as it was for her. “I understand. I won't,” she assured him quietly. And then, because she hated the tension and needed it gone, she quipped, “it'll be fun to go to Earth. I'm not sure anyone in the entire state of New Hampshire has ever seen a turian.”

“Great,” he said sarcastically, and although it didn't sound amused, it still made her smile a little.

“Okay. Better get ready. And, Garrus...I'm really-”

“Shepard, if the next word out of your mouth is 'sorry', we're gonna have an issue,” Garrus threatened, but this time his voice was much easier, and she took it for the joke it was.

“Grateful,” she finished with a roll of her eyes. “For you. Being at my back like this. That's all.”

“Well, now I feel like an asshole. I'm...glad to be here too. I know I might not be acting like it right now, but I am. I'll let you get ready.”

Faith nodded at the dismissal, stepping back and turning for the door.

Her mind was already racing. Now that things with her head were settled, she had to figure out a way to work _with_ Miranda. That meant convincing her that going to Earth was the right call. It was going to be tough.

It was easier to think about that than what it meant if her fears were true.

If he'd laid a hand on Emi...

This time, she wasn't a little girl panicking in a bathroom, lashing out and trying to defend herself, buying her freedom with silence. No. Not any more. This time that fucking son of a bitch was going to find out what it _really_ felt like to go up against Commander Shepard.

And, thinking of how angry Garrus had been...

He'd be very lucky if it was _only_ her he had to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i must admit...the slower updates are not because of any issues or lack of interest in continuing- the slower updates were caused by a newfound addiction to translated trashy Chinese josei novels. and I mean trashy in the BEST possible way.


	16. Chapter 16

Wandering up to the front of the bridge, Garrus stared at the display, the horizon of the planet Alchera slowly turning beneath them.

“Grim-looking place,” Joker said quietly, glancing over as he rested a hand on his chair. “Hey. Thanks for earlier. At lunch.”

Garrus nodded in understanding, but wasn't really willing to talk about it. It'd just make him angry again, and he was already furious enough. He was angry a lot right now. This just happened to be an entirely justified target for it.

“If you're going to ask, I don't know if-”

Joker swiveled slightly to give him a hard look. “I saw Faith's face. Do you think I need to ask? Anybody with half a brain knows what was going on.”

“I never pegged you for having that much of one,” Garrus said jokingly, more for his own sake than Joker's. Right now he needed to find a way to push this anger aside, but... “How do you feel about a trip to Earth?”

“Pretty damn good,” Joker said, turning back to stare at the planet's surface. His voice was tight now, free from its usual irritable gravel. He almost sounded worried. “I- do you think the kid's okay, Garrus? I knew Faith hated him, but...”

“I didn't know, either,” Garrus said quickly, to try and get rid of that self-recrimination in Joker's voice. “I was too stupid to pick up on the clues that there might be something more wrong than a kid having trouble adjusting.”

“Wait, you-” Joker turned again, turning an accusing look on him. “You've been in contact with Em? She told me you hadn't been.”

“Yeah, which I told her to say. I didn't want to talk to anyone, but what was I going to do, abandon her?” Garrus said, suddenly awkward. “Listen, I'm sorry for disappearing when-”

“I knew you were going to,” Joker dismissed.

That was really all that needed to be said between them. Still, it felt good to have it out in the open- he hadn't realized he felt guilty about leaving Joker behind until that very moment. One more thing he'd pushed aside in the moment because all he wanted to be was angry.

“You didn't answer my question.”

“What question?” Garrus asked.

“Do you think Em's okay?”

He'd seen Faith afraid before...but he'd never seen her afraid like _that_ before. Hell, she'd spoken about her father before, but it'd always been with disgust and annoyance, not fear. No, she hadn't been only afraid- she'd been terrified.

He wondered what had changed.

“I wish I could say she was- Faith admitted she doesn't know the guy that well, so...we really don't know. It might be smart not to contact Emi right now. I know the rumors about Shepard being alive are starting to spread, and I don't know what Faith's plan is going to be. I know what mine would be, but-”

“Garrus, can you meet us at the shuttle?” Faith's voice asked over the comms.

“On my way down,” he confirmed.

Garrus nodded to Joker and turned around with one last glance at the forbidding gray-blue bulk of Alchera. Right now all he needed to do was support Faith. This was going to be difficult, so she needed him at her back more than ever. Especially after earlier.

As he trudged away, he heard Joker call behind him, “what would your plan be?”

Turning around and walking backwards, Garrus called back, “that depends on him. That's the thing about payback, Joker- the more someone does, the more they get punished. I guess we'll find out.”

Garrus headed down to the hangar.

The trip down to the surface of Alchera was smooth. The shuttle wasn't half bad, and for sure better than rocketing out of a moving spaceship on a Mako like they'd used to. Jacob circled the landing site, looking for a place to set down, and Faith absently grabbed at his arm as they moved in close. The wreckage of the Normandy spread out before them, scattered into fragmented pieces like the remains of an ancient ruin. Garrus rested his hand over hers.

It wasn't easy to see.

For a while, it'd been their home.

“Hey.”

“I'm fine,” Faith denied, voice calm.

The shuttle finally found a place to land, settling down smoothly. Faith instantly, and awkwardly released him as Jacob turned. He didn't mind. Much.

Garrus couldn't really blame her when he was the one asking for space and then demanding she never leave him behind. He wasn't sure where his head was at with that. Probably better not to think too much about it right now, there were more important things at hand.

Garrus nodded to Jacob as he left the shuttle controls. “Not bad, Taylor.”

“I've flown her a few times now,” Jacob said, pulling on his helmet. “Barely any atmo.”

“Just enough to snow,” Faith said as they stepped out, voice a little distorted by her speaker.

There were slight drifting flakes of it in the air, but apparently not enough to accumulate much. The shuttle had landed on ice, but the armor they had could accommodate for that. The new suit Shepard had forced on him he had to admit was pretty slick. He appreciated the automated medi-gel dispensing, at least.

Jacob, with a bit of ceremony, pulled a long gray box from the shuttle and held it in both arms.

“Alliance dogtags are designed specifically not to burn up on re-entry so they can be retrieved,” Shepard said, voice quiet. “We're gathering all of them we can find. I'm not...familiar with this system you've put on my visor, Garrus. Can I set it up for target recognition that isn't...you know, a person?”

“Yeah, we just need to find one first,” he assured her. “I made it for you, I'll spend some time with you later tweaking it.”

Faith paused for a second, head turning towards him, and then she sighed, starting forward. “I didn't realize you had.”

“Used some existing things. Stitch-together job,” he dismissed, following behind her. “We'll modify it over time.”

Faith abruptly stopped, and then a low, disbelieving laugh escaped her. Before he could ask what it was, she was jogging forward, abruptly leaving them behind. He didn't know what had drawn her attention until he jolted forward to follow and saw it.

“No way,” he remarked over comms, voice low and disbelieving.

“It can't be intact,” Faith said, the humor not at all lessening the wistful heartbreak in her voice.

“It looks pretty intact to me.”

The Mako.

She headed right for it, ignoring everything else. The stupid vehicle had landed like it was waiting for them to climb onboard, nothing apparently destroyed by its descent through the atmosphere. It was singed and scarred and maybe there was a dent he didn't remember, but...

“I can't believe it. We rode it through a damn mass relay into Citadel, somehow it got dragged back on board the Normandy, and it still survived the crash,” he said, feeling a little ache when she reached it and immediately threw herself against its side.

Arms splayed across the side of the Mako, helmet leaning against it, he heard Faith give a long sigh. “This stupid thing.”

“She had a good run,” Garrus said, glancing over at Jacob as he pulled level. “You know, the only thing this old vehicle couldn't survive? Faith's driving. Nearly destroyed it falling into lava.”

“Yeah?” Jacob asked, with a faint chuckle.

“Skimmed! Skimmed the lava!” she protested, and then sighed and knelt down. In the snow and dust, she dragged something up from the ground, dangling from a chain. Her voice changed, quiet and calm. “Rose. Corporal Draven. Only child, single father. From...Earth. Scotland. Dundee. Husband, Mark. Two daughters, twins- they were six. Big reader, she always had a book up, I- I caught her reading once when she was supposed to be monitoring comms. She was so embarrassed...”

The chain wrapped around her hand as she carefully coiled it. As she turned back towards them, Jacob opened the box. Approaching, she carefully laid the dog tags inside. The box was closed, carefully, and Jacob saluted.

From his vantage point, he could see the surprise on Shepard's face at the gesture. He heard her inhale, a little shudder. She returned the salute. It would be a bit weird to co-opt the Alliance salute, but the Hierarchy marine salute felt appropriate.

A moment of silence and then he stepped forward to show Faith how to adjust her visor to hunt down any more dog tags.

One by one they found them, and Faith quietly recited facts and memories for each one. She really remembered. It wasn't just the names. They wended through the ruins of their home and relived the time they'd spent. It hurt him to realize how immediate this was for her. Weeks.

Not years.

“Corporal Amina Waaberi. Just turned twenty three. Military brat, like me. Mom, dad, two brothers.”

“Pain in the ass,” Garrus declared, and Faith laughed faintly.

“Pain in the ass,” she agreed softly, winding up the chain of the dog tag. “Couldn't hold her ryncol.”

“Who can?” he said, saluting as the medallion was settled.

The ceremony was strange and cobbled together, but it had a painful honesty to it that felt like catharsis. It was banter, it was mourning, it was all of the things they had to work their way through to be here right now. He wasn't ready to face the people he'd lost on Omega, but facing those lost on the Normandy was an important step.

He saw her almost break down when they found Pressly's.

She read the name, and then went silent, chain dangling from her hand. Clutching it, she stared across the shattered wreckage, breaths transmitted in their ears, uneven and ragged.

“Jacob, give us some space for a second,” he said quietly, moving to intercept her.

Garrus moved quickly to her side, a hand reaching for her elbow. She flinched at the contact, first, and then relaxed and leaned into him. He heard her inhale in a shudder.

“Hey.”

“I didn't know,” she said, voice on the edge of tears. “At first it was because I couldn't let those bastards see me cry, Garrus. I didn't ask, I didn't look up anything on the extranet. I didn't want any of it to be real, I think- I didn't want to think about two years, and-”

Confused at first, he was more than a little upset with her when understanding dawned. “You came down here without knowing who was lost in the crash? Why would you do that to yourself?”

“I-” She stopped, and then sighed. Despite the gloves, he could see a slight tremor in her hands as she wound the chain of the dog tags around her palm. “Nothing's felt real. Since I was brought back, until I woke up after the surgery, none of it's felt real, and I- I don't know. I don't really know why I didn't. I've been having trouble feeling- feeling like _me_.”

“I don't really understand...”

“I've always had to protect myself. Sometimes when I've been protecting myself for a long time, it's hard to stop,” Faith replied tensely. She swallowed, heavily, and glanced down at the dog tag again. “It's hard to let things back in again. This is helping...it's just hard.”

There wasn't anything he could really say but, “I'm here.”

“I know,” she assured him quietly. “Let's not leave anyone behind here. They need to go home.”

“We won't,” he promised her.

She gently rubbed her thumb across Pressly's dog tags, and then turned around to pace back to Jacob. The dog tags were set carefully in the case, and they all saluted it in silence. Finally, Faith gave a faint chuckle, dropping her hand.

“Did you hear how we stole the Normandy, Jacob?”

“I think I heard something about that, ma'am,” he agreed.

“That was an adventure,” Garrus said with a faint chuckle.

“Pressly was my XO. Career and family military, just like me. I thought he was going to hit the roof, but he was just as excited as I was- hell, maybe more.” Faith gave a faint laugh, and then shook her head and turned to continue the scan. “Everybody wants to go rogue at least once in their lives, I guess.”

Since Faith hadn't looked up who they were hoping to find, he brought the list of the missing up on his omni-tool and kept track of it. They were thorough, they were careful, and even so he was surprised when they found every single one. It wasn't how things usually panned out.

The last one was a bit scorched.

“Lieutenant Raymond Tanaka. Two sons with his husband Kyle- a high school science teacher. One grandchild, a girl. She was born while we were fighting Sovereign, actually.”

“Yeah?” Garrus asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” she said, voice cracking a little. “He told me when we left Citadel to look into the geth attacks- he was so excited. They named her Rose.”

Stepping forward, she gently laid the dog tags in with the rest. Garrus waited until they were done saluting, and quietly said, “that's all of them, Shepard.”

Retrieving the monument from where it had landed from the drop didn't take long- Joker knew what he was doing. It was a simple marker, not too heavy that he and Faith couldn't move it to a clear spot among the wreckage. It would mark the site even if everything else was gone. Not that salvagers were always respectful, but he couldn't imagine anyone with an ounce of conscience would steal something like this.

“I'll head back to the shuttle, Commander,” Jacob said respectfully, turning on his heel and leaving them alone.

Jacob seemed like a pretty savvy guy. Cerberus or no, Garrus didn't really have a problem with him. As long as he didn't touch Garrus' weapons, anyways.

He and Faith stood side by side, staring at the newly-placed monument and the box of carefully arrayed dog tags. The air of Alchera was still, snow drifting lazily, and everything faded away but the sounds of their breathing through the speakers of their helmet, steady and even. Glancing down, he noticed that her hands were at her sides now. He reached out and bumped his knuckles against the back of Faith's small hand, and she took his without looking.

Despite the differences, it felt natural.

Right.

“I'm sorry.”

“Why do you get to say it, but I don't?” Faith asked quietly, voice crackling over the speaker. “That's not fair. Then again...what is?”

“You did everything you could,” he said, rather than look at his own hypocrisy.

“I went down with my ship, like a good captain,” she said bitterly. “Why am I deserving of being brought back, but they aren't?”

“They all deserve it, Shepard. Every single one of them. It's not about deserving, st-” He had to cut himself off before the endearment escaped him, hoping the translator hadn't picked up the truncated word.

She sighed slowly. “I know that, but it still helps hearing you say it.”

“I'll say it until you don't need to hear it any more,” he assured her. Guilt was still there, and even though she'd dismissed his apology, he still felt like he needed to say something. “I should have been there.”

“And then you'd be here,” she replied, gesturing to the box with their joined hands.

“Maybe. But maybe not.”

“I don't have time for maybes, Garrus.”

She was right, but...

“I just hate that I wasn't there when you needed me, and hell...you were dead, and you were _still_ there right when I needed you most. How is that fair?” he asked, trying to sound flippant instead of as angry as he felt.

Faith gave a long, slow sigh. “I know you don't want to talk about it yet, and I don't want to push- I know I'm not good at it, but I'm trying, for you. But...there's something I need you to know.”

The fake humor died, and he gave a sigh. “What is it?”

“I'm proud of you.”

The words settled into his mind, a profound silence falling over him. The only sound was her breaths, even and slow. Even that couldn't calm the anger and bitterness that washed over him. He tried to drop her hand, but the shake-off was weak, and she clung to him, small fingers curling against him.

“How can you be proud of me? I screwed up everything. Abandoned Spectre training, threw a damn tantrum on my way out of C-Sec- hell, I'm probably blacklisted for life now. I even got my people-” He cut off, not willing to finish that. “There's nothing to be proud of there.”

Faith laughed quietly. “Do you know what a bastard I really am, Garrus? I'm not a _nice_ person. I lie, manipulate people to get my way- if it wasn't for the rules and regulations I follow and the fact that I _force_ myself to do good things...my instincts aren't good. They're selfish. Petty.”

“I'm pretty sure someone once told me that choices are what make us who we are.”

She gave a long sigh. “That's what I tell myself, Garrus. But you? _Why_ did you leave Citadel?”

“Because...” He didn't really want to talk about it, remember how angry and raw and furious he'd been. But he could give her a little. “Because it felt like all the rules were getting in the way of helping people. I thought if I did things your way, if I tried, it would get easier...but I failed. I wanted to do it for you, but without you there all I did was get angrier and angrier.”

“Garrus, bastards are the people who get things done, but people like you are the ones who change things for the better,” Shepard said quietly. “I'm actually a little jealous. You don't have to be me for me to be proud of you. I'm proud of _you_. Just as you are.”  
He wasn't sure what to say to that, because instinct had him rejecting it. So instead of fighting with her, he stayed silent. She squeezed his hand lightly.

“I'll help you follow the rules if you help me keep from indulging my worst impulses.”

It probably wouldn't do anything to argue that she had that handled herself. “Deal.”

“I'm still going to be a petty bitch sometimes, though,” she admitted with the faintest hint of humor.

“Well, I happen to like that about you. When it's not aimed at me. Come on. Let's go back.” He gave a small tug to her hand.

Faith nodded, and they returned to the shuttle. She'd dropped his hand to pick up the dog tags, but when they headed back to the Normandy she pulled off her helmet and rested her head on his upper arm. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his arm around her, but that felt like one step too far past friendly.

It was hard to see the line- it had always been blurry around her from practically the moment they'd met.

There really was nothing 'only' about them being friends.

It had always been more.

When they returned to the Normandy Faith excused herself to go call the Admiral, and then made herself scarce. It was strange to realize the irrational feelings he'd been considering earlier were actually worse than he'd realized- or after finding out about her father and dealing with the crash, maybe they'd _gotten_ worse. She was on the Normandy, she was safe. But he still found himself getting upset that he didn't know exactly where she was.

He'd distracted himself calibrating the new Thanix to avoid calling her or hunting her down.

What was he going to do, hover over her?

He was the one who'd asked for space.

When a crewman announced the evening crew-shift over comms, only then did he realize how late it'd gotten. A glance out at the mess proved that Faith wasn't eating dinner, and he had no appetite himself, so Garrus just went back to the battery. Calibrations were routine, calming, letting him focus on fixing things instead of feeling helpless over the things he couldn't. It helped.

Faith had teased him before about his propensity for 'tinkering', as she called it, but at least this was useful tinkering.

Maybe two hours passed, and while he'd managed to distract himself pretty well, when the call came through it still sent a wave of relief through him. He answered it immediately.

“Did you eat?”

Faith sighed in his ear, somewhere between tired and exasperated. “Karin sent it to my room. Yes, I ate.”

“I don't care if you're annoyed- if you don't want to be nagged, stop being difficult,” he told her, leaning against the wall.

“Mmh,” she said simply, and then fell silent. He was about to speak when she finally spoke up again, awkwardly. “I don't actually- I didn't have a reason, or anything...”

“Have you ever needed one?” he asked her. “I'm glad you called.”

The restless anxiety that demanded he know _where_ she was had quieted.

Now that they were talking, he could be patient. No matter how well she'd handled the crash, he knew how bad it had been for her. Faith never liked people seeing her break down. The fact that she still felt safe enough to let him see it- the feelings that brought up were complicated. He couldn't untangle them.

“Will...” Her voice was soft, strained.

“Hmm?” he asked, rather than pushing.

“Will you turn off your translator?” she replied.

It was a strange request, but considering what they'd been through today, he wasn't about to deny her. “Sure,” he agreed, and then brought up his omni-tool to disable it. There was silence for long, tense seconds on the other side, and then a quiet sigh in his ear.

The strains of a languid, soft song began, quietly sounding in his ear through the call. It took him a few bars to recognize it, the memory faded at the edges and hazy with alcohol and nostalgia- all the more precious for how brief things had been. It was the song Tanaka had sang that night on the Normandy. He couldn't for the life of him remember what the words were.

The singing began, fluid and lilting, incomprehensible but still pleasant.

Shortly he heard Faith singing along, almost in a whisper. He'd heard her sing before, but not like this. Quiet, sweet...vulnerable. He knew how hard that was for her.

The first time her voice caught, he almost missed it, letting everything wash over him. The second time threw it into relief, a choking stutter in the back of her throat. It didn't affect her singing, which only grew stronger, but he could hear the tears now. His fingers uncurled from his palms.

His hands were trying to reach for something that wasn't there.

Faith's voice rolled softly over the delicate notes, breath catching now and again, losing the end of a phrase, ending in a sob. Garrus closed his eyes. Her voice trailed off, and the voiceless tune bridged a gap in the melody. When the recording continued, Faith tried, but her breath escaped in a gasp.

The song turned into sobbing.

As she cried, the song continued, punctuating by her helpless gasps for breath. He listened to her, eyes closed, the soft song playing. Reluctantly, he brought up his omni-tool. Despite the situation it felt invasive to turn his translator back on. He dropped his hand.

He stood in silence while she cried.

Eventually the strains of the song petered out, leaving them in heavy silence. Her crying slowly petered out into shivering breaths and sniffling, until at last she gave a long, exhausted sigh. Unsure what to say- or even if she wanted him to speak, he turned his translator back on again. It switched halfway through a sentence.

“- remember what you said. I don't think I've forgiven you,” she said quietly, voice barely heard over a rustle he assumed was her bed.

Frowning, he wracked his brain, but he couldn't really understand what she meant. That he was angry at her? “I- I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

Faith inhaled sharply, and then gave a long sigh. “I told you to turn your translator off.”

“I just turned it back on. What did I say?”

“It isn't important,” she replied quietly, voice rough and slow. “I already knew you didn't remember saying it. Because you asked me twice...who got the kill shot on Saren. You don't remember, but I do, and I'm having trouble forgiving you.”

When he'd...she must have meant that they'd spoken when he was injured, then, because after the fight with Saren was when she'd disappeared and no one could find her. They must have spoken some time after the fight but before he passed out, but...

“I'd lost a lot of blood, I wasn't at my best. Whatever I said that upset you, you know I couldn't have meant it, right? You're not going to tell me?”

Faith gave another long, tapering sigh in his ear, and then fell silent.

Garrus tried again. “How can I apologize if-”

The call ended, leaving him confused.

Just like he had before when dealing with her moods, he immediately called her back. If she hung up on him it meant she wanted him to keep calling, but if she ignored it...

He waited at least thirty seconds, watching the call she wouldn't pick up trying to go through.

Fine.

She'd had a rough day, and he shouldn't hold this against her, but he was annoyed. Faith could be so damn stubborn. Which he could admit he did like about her- she got things done and didn't take people's bullshit.

But in this case...

They'd talk about it later, when she was feeling better. It bothered him that he'd apparently said something she 'couldn't forgive him for', because he'd never really thought that she was the type to hold unjustified grudges. She had to know how bad off he'd been- hell, he'd almost lost his arm.

Whatever he'd said to upset her, Faith had to know he couldn't have meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song [In English](https://open.spotify.com/track/0VxocBntP1XTZRsR9ZURPS) for those who prefer it, or in [the original French](https://open.spotify.com/track/681ovwxkH4awFIcc8PqTDp) for people with class ;)
> 
> Happy Monday!


	17. Chapter 17

As much as she hated crying, a good cry did a lot to clear out the brain.

The problem was, Faith's stupid ass had gone and said something she shouldn't have afterwards. Something she hadn't even really known she was feeling. In the moment, she'd just been raw and sad, and her mind was tumbling over the words Garrus had said down on Alchera.

_I should have been there._

Feeling right was what she needed, when the tough calls had to be made. It kept her from faltering, it kept her from doubting in front of the crew. Questioning herself was natural, but when it came down to it, if she couldn't trust herself at all, how could anyone else trust her?

And trust was a choice.

She remembered after the defeat of Sovereign, retreating like a wounded animal, closing herself up in emptiness and silence. Running off to an empty home. There had been a moment she'd paused on the stairs, when she would have gone back to him if not for three little words he'd said.

_I love you._

Three little reasons to keep pulling away instead of going back to him. It was too late, the damage was done. All she could do was try to minimize what pain it would cause. It was basically the death of anything more that could have happened between them.

It wasn't fair to resent him for it, and now that she knew she _was_ resenting him- well, knowing feelings weren't logical was the first step to getting rid of them. He wanted space. She'd been wrong to call him last night, she should have dealt with it herself.

Faith just didn't know what the hell he'd meant by 'space', because she was pretty sure hand-holding wasn't a part of it.

Slumping into the medi-bay for her morning doses, Faith gave a testing sniff. Sinuses felt clear. It wouldn't last, undoubtedly, but for the moment it was nice. Karin was already prepping things for her.

“Good morning, Commander.”

“Morning, doctor,” she said, pulling up to sit on the bed. “What's on the menu?”

“Your infection and the virus have interfered with the ability to note any minor reactions from the previous dosages I was giving you, so we need to continue with the same concentration. Any rashes since last we spoke?”

“Nothing since the oxybenzone test,” Shepard denied. “Honestly, that's the biggest pleasant surprise out of all of this, I was so used to getting rashes every week that it's odd not having them all the time.”

She took the first dose handed to her, labeled with a string of symbols she didn't quite recognize. Tossing it back, she turned it over in her fingers. Silently, she just waited, glancing over at Karin as she stared at her omni-tool's timer.

“Thirty seconds. Any tingling or numbness on the tongue?” Karin pressed a hand to her lower back. “Deep breath for me.”

“Tongue feels fine,” Faith denied, and then did as she was told.

They went through the doses one by one, and Faith dutifully reported every reaction. Sadly, it still seemed like her dog and ragweed allergies were still a problem. Ugh, not having hay fever any more would really be nice. But not every battle could be won in an instant.

The last dose was waiting on the counter when Karin finished her transcribing, but it wasn't being handed to her. Faith eyed it, and then shifted her gaze to the doctor expectantly. “So...”

“There will be no hiding things from me this time, do you understand?” Karin said briskly, glancing up from her datapad. “I'm quite serious about this. I cannot continue to help you if you do not accurately inform me of all of your exposures to allergens.”

It didn't take her long to figure it out. Letting out a long sigh, Faith reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Karin, Garrus and I aren't-”

“Not what?”

“The only contact we've had is normal physical contact, and I haven't had any rashes from that! Trust me, you'd know if I had, because I'd be pretty upset about it.”

“While we can avoid peanut oil and clams quite easily, Faith, turians are another matter entirely. Your recovery from this allergy is of paramount importance. Your exposure has to be strictly monitored and recorded,” Karin said.

Faith was fighting the urge to cover her face with her hands and scream. She knew it wasn't just about Garrus, but it also was totally about him and the fact that she wanted a second chance with him, but- “He told me he needs space, so...”

“And how long do you expect that to _last_ , with you two?” Karin replied pointedly, and with just enough sarcasm to drive the point home.

“If I had my way? But it's not just about me,” Faith asked glumly, and then sighed and dropped her head with a shake. “I'm going to be embarrassed having this talk either way, so we might as well get it out of the way.”

“Right now you're at a concentration of one part per hundred. That is to say, one one-hundreth of the allergens that actual contact with turian fluids would be,” Karin said, voice comfortingly the same as it always was.

“Okay. But that's progress, right?”

“It is progress,” Karin agreed, scanning through her datapad. “If you can keep yourself healthy for a while, we can try to fast-track the process slightly, but if the severity of your reactions increases, we will have to go back to a much slower introduction.”

“So basically I am getting the 'no smooching' talk,” Faith surmised, trying to sound accepting instead of embarrassed.

“Indeed. The good news is that your contact reaction to it seems to have cleared up. I've isolated and tested each of the possible allergens in skin contact and you've had no reaction,” Karin said, gratefully ignoring the fact that Faith was steadily turning red. “I still recommend extreme caution so as to avoid accidental ingestion.”

“Oh my god,” Faith said, completely mortified as she lifted her hands to cover her eyes.

“Faith, you're an adult,” Karin said, more amused than scolding. “And as such I am here to inform you of what is safe, not judge you.”

“I appreciate the doctor-ese for 'he can lick you, but you can't lick him', but it's still embarrassing to hear, okay?” Faith laughed, rubbing her cheeks.

“Dividing the 'cocktail' down to constituent parts and testing each one separately would also aid the process, but it would require hourly dosings,” Karin said, glancing at her over the datapad.

“That seems like a lot...”

“It would help us isolate which reactions are being caused by which bodily fluids-”

And there went Faith's face again, going red as the damn tomatoes she couldn't eat.

“- thus being more easily able to identify what sort of exposure is safe for you at any given time.”

“Cool,” Faith declared, a little strangled. “Cool, cool. Okay. Might as well give it a uh- a shot?”

_A shot of-_

You know, it was a lot easier calling them allergens instead of bodily fluids- yes she realized they were isolated and artificially created rather than uh- coming from the source, but it still didn't change the fact that she was now painfully aware that it wasn't just spit that Karin had been testing.

“We'll start with the modified regimen tomorrow, then,” Karin agreed, finally picking up the last vial and passing it over.

Faith stared at it, trying not to think about- “I wasn't aware it was a dose for not just spit, but uh-”

“Seminal fluid?” Karin asked mildly.

Faith closed her eyes and let out a faint hiss of breath. “Y-yeah, that.”

“Luckily you had no reaction to blood, at least, but I still wouldn't recommend ingesting it. In the end, turians are dextro-amino based, and while you might not have an allergic reaction, your digestion will _not_ appreciate it.”

The change in subject helped. “Well, when I turn into a vampire I'll make sure to avoid them.”

“That would be wise,” Karin agreed, and then gave a little, amused sigh. “Commander, just take the dose, please.”

“I am, I am,” she sighed, and tossed it back before she could think too much harder about it. It tasted like precisely nothing, as it always did, but something in her brain had flipped that couldn't be un-flipped.

Doctor prescribed turian cum.

Lovely.

“Your lungs sound clear. Vitals patches, twenty minutes of high impact cardio first, please, and then you can continue on with the rest of your training,” Karin said, taking pity on her and dropping the conversation from there. Or at least Faith thought so until she slipped off the table, and Karin added, “I'm quite serious, Faith. Every exposure has to be reported.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Faith muttered, making a break for it.

Oh god.

Unfortunately, she had one stop before she could go wear herself out exercising so she could stop thinking about doing cum shots in the doctor's office. Definitely not the topic she wanted in her mind right now. She needed to talk to Miranda.

Ever since the impromptu surgery, Miranda had been wary, but not as unpleasant as Faith had feared. There was even a grudging respect she was getting from their brief interactions. Faith was glad- she might not like Miranda, but she needed her.

When the door slid open, Shepard poked her head in before stepping inside.

Miranda glanced up from her desk. “Commander. What can I do for you?”

“Do you have a minute for me?”

“Yes,” Miranda said with a nod. “Since you're currently so interested in upgrades to the Normandy, I might have some suggestions.”

The slight sarcasm to that statement didn't get past Faith, and she grinned and dropped her head. “I deserve that, entirely. But also, yes I am- I actually _did_ buy the big guns, you know. Listen, I did what I felt I had to do, and it wasn't about you as a person.” Mostly. “But I am sorry for the discomfort I caused you. You have my history, so I'm not going to list my reasons because you can look them up yourself just like I did.”

Miranda chuckled, very faintly. “I'm not sure if I'm more annoyed or impressed, Commander. I thought I knew everything there was to know about you. I suppose all I can say is...well played. As you said, I know why you did it, and as long as you're still willing to work with us, I'm not interested in demanding more of your motivations or reasoning.” She tipped her head.

Faith could respect that. “We have a common goal. I'm actually here because- apologetically- I need to make a small side trip. It shouldn't take long, but it's not Cerberus related.”

“Is this about your adoptive daughter?” Miranda asked mildly.

Agh, the 'D' word again.

“Can't get one past you. I need to get her. I don't plan to keep her onboard long, I just have to figure out where and who she can stay with- getting her out is the top priority, though.” Shepard paused briefly, and then forced herself to admit without flinching, “the person they placed her with was physically abusive to me when I was a kid.”

She shouldn't be ashamed of it- that's what'd gotten her into this mess.

“I wasn't aware, or I would have said something earlier,” Miranda said, and she actually was apologetic.

“I never told anyone- this is entirely my fault,” Shepard denied with a wave of her hand, continuing doggedly, “but that means I need to fix it. As soon as possible.”

“Shepard, you may be surprised, but I understand wanting to save the people you care about from those who have hurt you. The Normandy isn't any place for a child, but I know you want her safe, which means you will find somewhere else for her to stay,” Miranda said calmly.

For once, Miranda's whole 'I know everything about you' schtick didn't bother her. She was too busy being surprised and a little ashamed that Miranda had agreed so readily. Maybe she'd been too hard on her- hell, she'd probably been dumping all her Cerberus issues right on Miranda's head.

“I'm...well, now I'm the one with egg on my face.”

“And if this was in public, we might be even,” Miranda said, but with humor in her voice. Her console beeped, and she glanced down at it, typing rapidly.

“Being gracious is a pretty good revenge. I'll have to remember that one,” Faith said, and then gave a long sigh. “Thank you for-”

“Shepard, a message from the Illusive Man. He needs to speak to you immediately, in the debriefing room,” Miranda interrupted briskly.

Damn it.

It had to be important, but- “On my way. Thank you, Miranda,” Shepard said, turning on a heel and striding out. Immediate meant urgent, and urgent meant they were likely going to be sent somewhere. If it was something that could be deferred, she would, but-

What if it wasn't?

What the hell was going on?

Garrus had been deep into calibrations when the announcement had come that they were heading for the Iera system- a system so obscure that he'd had to look it up. Terminus. About as far from Earth as you could get. After a few seconds of frustrated research, he dropped his omni-tool.

“EDI, where's the Commander?”

“Commander Shepard is in the hangar, Garrus.”

“Thanks,” he said, wasting no time.

Sure he could have gone to talk to Joker, but better to chase down the info at its source. Heading down to the hangar, he wasn't surprised to find her in the middle of exercising. It was a pretty common way to find Faith. She was running on a treadmill, a finger pressed to her wrist.

It was practically the only bare part of her, she was wearing another outfit that seemed to cover her from neck to ankles, only her hands exposed. It was odd. He always seemed to remember her wearing as little as possible when exercising before. He wondered if something was wrong.

When she heard him approach, she glanced up briefly, giving him a dour look with her lips pursed.

“Shepard, what the-”

“I'm not happy either, okay?” she said, not sounding at all winded, her head turning away from him again. “The colony Horizon just went dark- that means it might be the Collectors again. We need to get there, now, before it's too late. Plus? Ash is there.”

Ash was there?

Faith sounded so angry and frustrated that he couldn't be pissed at her. That was fine, they could be pissed together at the situation. Damn it. “No, we definitely have to go, then. Talk about bad timing.”

“I'm sorry, there isn't anything I can do about it. I wish I-”

“Why would I blame you for this?” he denied quickly, lifting a hand as he approached. Stepping around to the front of the treadmill so he could meet her eyes, he crossed his arms. “We'll take care of this, and then we'll go get Em, all right? Whether or not Cerberus wants us to.”

Faith gave a faint, frustrated huff, dropping her fingers from her wrist. “I actually talked to Miranda. I guess I should have realized she might understand- we're both members of the daddy issues club. I actually feel a little guilty that I just assumed she'd be an asshole about it.”

Garrus took a second to think about that. Yeah, he didn't like Miranda, but that was mostly because of how she'd treated Faith. “Well, at least she didn't give you any trouble,” he finally said, neutrally.

Shepard's omni-tool beeped, and she turned down the treadmill, pace going from a gliding run to a slower, bouncing jog. Definitely some bouncing. Yeah, she was very covered up, but it was also very...tight.

“This is weird, but can you like, turn your back for a second?”

Snapping back to himself abruptly, he blinked. “I wasn't staring.”

“What?”

“What?” he repeated awkwardly, and they stared at each other for a few seconds. Automatically he turned around, though he still didn't know why she'd said that. Or why he'd been stupid enough to say _that_.

_What the hell is wrong with you, Vakarian?_

“Um...thanks,” Faith said, sounding about as clumsy as he had. “Ah, doc. Just finished. Yeah. Mhmm. The throat itch is still there a little, I guess? But no issues with my lungs. Still getting the oral discomfort, the prickle, but it seems better than it usually is, and my tongue's not swollen. Uh huh. Yeah...nope. That seems about it. No interruptions to my breathing at all- will do.”

Okay. She wanted him to turn around because she was...calling Doctor Chakwas? Strange, but a little better than what he'd been thinking, which was not something he should be thinking about.

“If that was private you could have had me...at least give you some space, Faith,” Garrus said with a hint of confused humor.

“I could not look at you while doing that,” she replied, and when he glanced back at her she was standing at the end of the still treadmill with her hands pressed to very red cheeks. He gave her a puzzled look, and she stuttered a nervous laugh.

It had sounded like a pretty regular check-in to him.

“I'm missing something.”

“It's...nothing.” Faith stepped past him, shaking her head as she dropped her hands. Grabbing a pair of fingerless padded gloves off of a weight bench, she started yanking them on. “I am sorry about the trip being delayed. I'll spend some mental energy trying to make sure the plan is as efficient as possible to hopefully make up for some lost time.”

Okay, she didn't want to talk about it- if it was medical, it wasn't really his business.

“Aren't I here for my tactical expertise? Why not talk it out with me?” he invited, watching as she started selecting plates from weight rack.

“Because I'm trying to give you _space_ , Garrus,” she said, frustrated. “I'm really bad at it, and I already feel bad enough for calling you last night. I'm sorry, by the way, for that shit. When I'm stressed I say stupid shit, I didn't mean it.”

“This is about Emi, not us, I don't need space from this,” he sighed, reaching up to scratch his head and stopping himself. No, he almost got to be free of these bandages, he didn't need to be making it worse again just because it itched. “And I was happy you called.”

Not so happy about the hanging up on him, but...

Faith paused midway through sliding a plate onto the bar at the weight bench, giving him a narrow look. Blank, he stared back at her for a few seconds before finally giving in. “Okay, what?”

“Then what...is space, Garrus? What the fuck is the space you want? Because you ask for space and then you're holding my hand and letting me sob all over you and I'm kind of feeling guilty for accepting emotional support from someone who has asked me to back the hell off!”

Oh.

Well...

“I hadn't really thought about it,” he admitted.

She was absolutely right, but he hadn't even stopped to think about what he was doing. All right, maybe he was jerking her around a little. Silently he watched her loading up weights, metal clanging a bit louder than necessary. Faith looked annoyed.

She tightened the clips and then drummed her fingers on the weights in a restless rhythm.

“Okay,” she finally said, letting out a long breath. Her expression smoothed out. “It was a stressful time, I'd been a dick to you before you freed me- you're angry at me for how I ended things, you have a right to be. You thought I was dead and I'm not now, and this is all complicated, I get that. I do. And I understand that you might not know why, and that you have boundaries that might not be clear to you, but I kinda _don't_ when it comes to you- I never have. So _you're_ the one who has to tell me where there are boundaries.”

Garrus didn't interrupt her, but he was getting more uncomfortable. “We don't really need to hash this all out right now, do we? There's a lot going on, and-”

“There's always going to be a lot going on,” she snapped, and then gestured demandingly. “Spot me.”

Considering the amount of weight she'd chosen, he wasn't going to fight her on that, moving to the head of the bench. Faith settled down, tightening her gloves one more time with a sigh. They were both silent as she worked her way through ten reps of bench pressing, muscles taut under the tight-fitting shirt. She was focused, lips tight, letting out an explosive sigh as he helped her shift the bar back to its resting place.

Dropping an arm across her forehead, she took a few seconds and breathed heavily, staring up at him. “I'm trying really hard not to do that thing where easily-fixable misunderstandings or things not said turn everything complicated and weird. This isn't a...a poorly-written movie, okay? I want clarity, and everything when it comes to me and you always seems so muddy.”

Garrus gave her a disbelieving look, crossing his arms again. “Kind of having a hard time believing that after last night.”

“Shit,” she dropped her eyes, rubbing her forehead in slow circles with her fingertips. “I was being stupid again. I apologized, didn't I?”

“Apologizing _isn't_ telling me what you meant. I wasn't going to push it, but you're the one who brought this up, so let's not start with you being a hypocrite. What did I do that's so unforgivable? You know I couldn't have possibly meant it.”

“That actually kind of makes it _worse_ , Garrus,” she muttered, and then closed her eyes with a long sigh.

Before he could push her, she grabbed the bar again for another set. Now it was _him_ that was annoyed, like they were lobbing it back and forth like a ball. She didn't meet his eyes, even when she finished all ten reps and he helped her guide the bar back into place.

Breathing heavily, she laid there with her hands on her stomach, eyes averted from him. He stared at her for a good fifteen seconds, expecting her to say something, before throwing up his hands and turning away. “Fine.”

Damn it, she could be such a pain. Why was it so easy for her to get him riled up- in every possible way? Nobody got under his carapace like she did.

He got three steps away before she called after him, the words stopping him in his tracks.

“You told me you loved me.”

Staring at absolutely nothing, he let that sink in, stomach dropping along with it. He'd-

Faith continued when he didn't say anything, voice uncertain. “And...and that's when I knew it was over. Really over. Because if it was true, there was no way I could risk that you might accidentally hurt me. I couldn't stop the pain that had happened, but I- I could stop the pain that was coming.”

Really?

He exhaled slowly, lifting a hand to his forehead. Shit. What could he- damn it, had he _really_ said that to her?

Last night- she'd hung up on him when he'd said he hadn't meant it.

“The way I'm feeling about it isn't right, and it isn't fair, but I liked when we _were_ lying and things were easy because we were pretending it wasn't a damn...a damn house of cards.”

“I don't know what that means,” he said numbly.

Faith's voice was even and calm, but it barely helped. “Something liable to fall over at any second. Like it did that night...when we were dumb and impulsive and fooled around. It's still one of my happiest memories, but I remember the way you looked when that stupid rash happened.”

“I still feel guilty over that,” he admitted quietly.

“That was just a rash, and it's been two years. Don't you think that kind of proves my point, Garrus?” she asked. “I wasn't afraid of dying. I wasn't even afraid of you killing me, not really. I was afraid of what that would do to _you_.” She sighed, and her voice turned more brisk. “Okay, enough of that. So, I was honest with you. You're right, I was being a hypocrite, but I'm trying to do better.”

Too confused and conflicted now, it was really all he could do to try and keep up with the conversation. “Well if I'd known you were going to drop _that_ on me, I might have backed off a little.”

Faith laughed, a faint little humorless stutter of sound. “Yeah. And I get that you've got more shit to deal with on this front than me. More baggage. I already know what I want.”

He half-turned to glance back at her. She was sitting facing him, legs folded under her on the weight bench, expression serious. After a few seconds he had to drop his head.

“Are ah- you gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?” he joked nervously.

“I want a second chance, Garrus. And what I need from you is for you to figure out what you need, and what you want. If it's time, if it's space, if it's _no_...I just need to know. When you're ready.”

Another thing he had no way of being prepared for.

“I- uh...” Garrus said articulately. “Shepard, I'm...”

Faith stayed where she was, a good seven or eight feet between them. Arms crossing under her chest, she gave a small shake of her head when he failed to finish his thought. “No more mixed messages. That's how we'd probably end up with bullshit like last time. Break things off, fall back in together, rinse and repeat. I don't want that this time. Because I'm gonna beat these allergies, Garrus. So you- you go think.”

“I realize it's been no time for you, but it's been _two years_ for me,” he said, because that was all his brain could manage to dredge up to explain why she was so abruptly coming out with this. She didn't understand everything that happened. How much had changed.

How much _he_ had changed.

“Hey, if two more years will help, I can wait that long,” she said with a shrug of one shoulder. “I didn't put a deadline on you figuring it out. But just know- I'm not good at boundaries when it comes to you, so if you're not sure...please don't fuck with me too much, okay? I'm going to get back to work. I'll see you at lunch, maybe.”

Without another word, she got up and turned her back on him, re-racking the weights. Confused and not sure where to even start thinking about everything that had just been said, he watched her for a minute until it felt too invasive. She was steadily ignoring him, so he didn't say goodbye. He just turned and left, retreating back to the battery.

What did he want?

How could he even figure that out when he'd spent so much time knowing it was impossible? Now it might not be, and everything was tangled and upside-down. He was angry, hopeful, frustrated, confused, and desperately wanting to just say damn it all and _try_ , but...

More than any of that, he was afraid.

She'd proven it before- it took two people to try, but only one to say goodbye.

How could he know it wouldn't happen again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ You GUYS. YOU GUYS! Look at what Nimtheriel made! Save me, I'm dying!](https://espyraeh.tumblr.com/post/640688524207751168/read-the-stars-that-stop-shining-by-ocreata-if-you)


	18. Chapter 18

_Hypocrite._

Garrus had been absolutely right, Faith was being a hypocrite again- and whether he knew it or no, he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do. Calling her out. Unfortunately course-correcting had come with a whole lot of shit dumped pretty tactlessly right on his head. She'd done her best, tried to keep it simple and forthright and not get all emotional...but it was still a lot.

She got that.

Unfortunately, she also got that trying to take someone else down to Horizon might upset him, and she didn't want that either. Ash was his friend, too. So it'd probably be awkward. It was all right. Fighting together was always the most natural thing for them, maybe it'd help.

Faith was really just grasping at straws.

Trying to start fixing everything that had gotten fucked up while she was taking her corpse vacation was going to be an arduous process. She'd have to call mom on the way to Earth, and start answering messages. She'd taken a scan through them after lunch, answered a few. Made the mistake of opening the one from Chris Toombs, her old squad member from Akuze who had been tortured by Cerberus.

It was weighing heavy on her right about now.

Having an old friend threaten to kill you was always a little rough.

Something about going down and facing the wreckage of the Normandy had finally let it all sink in. It was time for moving forward, not hiding behind her shield. She was good at solving problems, and if she confronted all of this baggage as just a problem to be solved, it'd be easier to untangle.

She still didn't feel a hundred percent 'herself', but that mostly because of the scars and the whole idea 'woah I fucking died what the fuck'.

Also the thing where her tattoo was gone.

Even if she didn't feel safe in her own body, at least the brain was all her- vices, idiocies, and all.

Faith was watching Mordin modify the last set of armor with Jacob. She'd watched all the installations, but she was happy to let him do it and just observe. Well, armor for most of them. Trying to get Jack into a suit of armor probably wouldn't work.

“EDI, what time is it down there on Horizon?” she asked absently.

“Eleven twenty three. Horizon has a day-night cycle of approximately thirty eight Earth hours, Commander Shepard.”

“So like breakfastish. How long until we're in orbit?”

“ETA thirteen minutes.”

“At least we're not going down there under cover of darkness, I suppose,” Faith said, reaching up and rubbing her forehead. “I-”

The door to the armory slid open, and she wasn't in the least bit surprised to see Garrus despite not having called for him. Nervous, but still amused, she watched as he went immediately for his open locker and started putting on his armor without even looking in her direction. “I wasn't going to leave you behind,” she told him.

“Just getting ready,” he replied, voice neutral.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, but still smiling, she turned back to Mordin and Jacob. The latter was giving her a curious look she ignored. Weirdly, pushing all of the burden of knowledge off of herself and getting it out there had made her feel a lot better. It'd be what it'd be.

Garrus was here, and everything else would sort itself out one way or another in time.

“Mordin, you sure these upgrades will protect us from the seeker swarms?” she asked, nodding to Jacob as he started collecting the armor to put back in his locker.

“Certainty impossible. But in limited numbers, should confuse detection, make us invisible to swarms. In theory.”

“In theory?” Jacob asked.

“Experimental technology. Only test is contact with seeker swarms.” Mordin glanced up at Shepard. “Looking forward to seeing if you survive!”

“I _mostly_ do,” Shepard chuckled. “So smaller squads the better. All right then. I'll need you to stick up here and collect data- if it's gotta be live testing, live testing it is. I trust you.”

“Visual data helpful.”

“I can turn on recording for both of our visors,” Garrus said, pulling a weapon out of his locker. Glancing down at it, he finally glanced up in Faith's direction. “You've still got my shotgun.”

“Sorry, right,” she said, catching her assault rifle as he tossed it to her. “Small squad. Okay, well, gonna need some muscle. EDI, tell Grunt to come get suited up.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Swapping her assault rifle for Garrus' shotgun, she tossed it to him, and he caught it deftly, slinging it on his back. Faith started getting into her armor, mind running over possibilities. A backup squad to follow once they got the lay of the situation sorted would probably be a good idea.

Shepard brought up a quick comm-call. “Miranda. I need you to come up and visually monitor our advance with Mordin in the lab. Once my infiltration team has assessed the situation, I'll need you to lead a secondary squad to protect any vulnerable colonists as we cut our way through. Stay sharp and flexible.”

“Squad recommendations, Commander?” Miranda asked mildly.

This was probably one of those times where a little white lie was the right thing to do. Another thing she had to start fixing. “I trust your judgment.”

Garrus gave her a look, but she ignored it.

Besides, she already knew exactly who Miranda would take- Jacob and Kasumi. What was she going to do, take Jack? Yeah right. Without Shepard there, that was a recipe for disaster.

“Jacob, you okay playing chauffeur? I hate to not have an exit strategy, but we don't have a second shuttle.”

“Probably should add that to the list,” Garrus suggested, and she gave him a nod.

“I can stay in the shuttle ready to go once I get back to the Normandy, in case the worst happens. That way you're not stranded for long, at least,” Jacob said, assuming as much as she did that Miranda would be taking him.

“That seems our best course of action,” Shepard agreed with a tip of her head. “And if both squads are down and we all have to run in a hurry? Well. Grunt can sit on my lap, I guess.”

The krogan in question, who was just passing through the door, gave her a blank stare and stopped short. “What?”

“You heard me! Meet me at the shuttle!” she said cheerfully, ducking around him and heading for the door. Unsurprisingly, Garrus fell in, shadowing her to the elevator. He took position at her side, facing the door as it closed. She glanced sidelong as she selected the hangar. He didn't look at her- not great peripheral vision anyways, turians.

“We're going in a little blind.”

“What's new?” he asked.

“No, I mean, when I got to Freedom's Progress, they were gone. When they destroyed the SR-1, it was ship to ship. I've never fought them on the ground before. We'll have to be flexible,” she explained, fingers drumming on her helmet.

“Well, that is your specialty,” he said, still bland and expressionless.

Faith had to remember to be patient. She couldn't forget how much she'd just dumped all over him, of course it'd take time. He was here, and that was what mattered most.

Still, when the elevator slowed, she took advantage of his refusal to look at her and lined up a flick to the side of his mandible before she ducked past him and through the doors just as they opened.

There was a truncated sound of confusion from behind her, and then a sigh.

He caught up by the time she got to the shuttle, and this time _she_ ignored _him_ as he stared down at her. Humor was rising, but she kept her face blank until he gave a faint 'ahem', and the corners of her lips twitched. And then he flicked her ear.

“Ouch!” she protested, grabbing it as it stung. “Your fingers are bigger than mine, no fair! Also, no carapace.”

“Then you shouldn't have started the fight, should you have?” he replied, voice sounding a little less tense. Good. “Hand me your visor?”

Willingly she passed it over, but not without a grumble. Leaning against the shuttle, she watched as he brought up his omni-tool and started fiddling with it. “I got a message from Chris Toombs. The Corporal from Akuze.”

“I remember. He doing any better?”

“Not sure. Running a mercenary company,” she said, waiting for Garrus' 'hmm' before continuing. “Threatened my life. You know.”

Garrus blinked and finally looked at her, their eyes meeting. “Are you okay?”

Surprised, and then pleased to hear that was his first response, she rolled her shoulders in a shrug and smiled ruefully. Definitely the answer was no, but dwelling wouldn't do a damn thing. “I understand why, at least. You were there, you know what Cerberus did to him. I think it's a reaction I'm going to have to get used to.”

“You're doing what has to be done. You always do. Try not to take it too hard,” he told her seriously. He handed her back her visor, and she snapped it back into place.

“I'm trying,” she said. “Am I live?”

“Not yet, I'll start the transmission when we touch down. Go ahead and turn it on, I uploaded some small changes I've made,” Garrus suggested with a small nod.

Blinking curiously, she did as he suggested, brightening immediately as the targeting system came online. A small, silly change, but- “You made it purple!” she said delightedly.

“I know you always switch your omni-tool to purple,” he remarked off-handedly, almost sounding a little embarrassed. “It just took me a while to find a shade that'd stand out well for targeting, it should shift color a little with the environs to stay visible. I ah- didn't think you'd get so excited over it, though.”

“You kidding? If Karin hadn't strictly given me a 'no smooching turians' order, you'd be getting one right on the mandible,” she said, happily scanning the hangar as Garrus cleared his throat awkwardly. She'd missed that noise. He had a pretty charming way of getting flustered.

At this point, though, Jacob and Grunt were approaching, and the conversation died. She palmed open the shuttle and swung in, listening to Joker announcing their approach to Horizon as she settled and strapped herself in. Garrus followed, and she tried not to feel put out that he sat down across from her instead of next to her. Fine. Be that way.

She could feel the nerves she was hiding under humor, giving her an uneasy energy.

Grunt came in last, and stared down at her. “I'm not sitting in your lap.”

“It was a joke, Grunt,” she explained, terribly amused.

“That's stupid, Shepard,” he informed her, settling heavily on the bench.

Garrus chuckled, cutting it off with a cough when she raised an eyebrow at him. Faith wasn't offended, but it was funnier if she pretended to be as she aloofly turned her attention to Grunt. “I can't help it if you don't understand my highly sophisticated humor, Grunt. Human humor is the most advanced and refined in the galaxy, you know.”

“I ah- somehow doubt that,” Garrus said.

They had to pick up their voices as the shuttle dropped, Jacob handling the sudden descent into the atmosphere as smoothly as someone could. Her eyes shifted to the window to watch as they broke atmo, but she kept her voice light and easy. “It's true. Classic human cinema is a masterclass in comedy. From fornicating with baked goods to a very large man in a very small coat...but nothing, I think, is as highly regarded as the classic 'man getting hit in the balls- er, quad' gag.”

“Really, Shepard?” Garrus asked, exasperated.

Grunt gave a faint 'hmh', “you may have a point. It is funny when it happens to other people.”

“And this is why turians have no sense of humor,” she explained, as Garrus stared exasperatedly at her. “Because their testicles are internal.”

Grunt chuckled, gravelly and just a little malicious.

“ _Thank_ you, Faith, that's enough,” Garrus said pointedly.

Shepard just grinned broadly.

They touched down smoothly, Shepard confirming the touch-down with Miranda, Joker, and Mordin before swinging herself out. She called thanks to Jacob, the shuttle door sliding closed behind Garrus. “Secure the landing site,” she ordered, but paused when Garrus lightly grabbed her elbow.

Keeping her eyes on Grunt, she tilted her head. “What is it?”

“You all right? Kind of a hundred and ten percent Shepard right now,” Garrus said quietly.

“Worrying about me?” she asked flippantly. Rather than lie, she shrugged one shoulder. “Venting nerves a little bit, I'll be fine. It helps.”

And it helped her that _he_ sounded more like himself now, less tense and awkward.

“Just making sure. Time for the Vakarian and Shepard show. Transmission indicator should pop up in your lower left next to the comms indicator.” He brought up his omni-tool. “Right...about...now.”

“Shepard and Vakarian,” she joked, unslinging her assault rifle. “It's gotta be alphabetic.”

“Vakarian and Shepard _is_ in alphabetic order.”

They bantered as they worked, as was tradition, splitting up to sight around the edges of the landing zone before heading forward. They were on the outer defense perimeter, but the defense turrets were all down, not a single one moving. Must have been the Collectors, like taking out the comm buoy. Damn it, they were well prepared.

“Maybe alphabetic in the wrong language. Pretty trees. Look native to Earth.”

“Something coming in from above around this corner,” Garrus said, scope to the sky.

“Find cover!” Faith snapped, dodging past the wall and assessing. She could see them dropping in, bulky gray-black creatures of some sort. They were down a gentle slope, giving her team a slight height and view advantage.

She ducked for a low wall, leaving the heavier cover for her bigger squadmates.

“Four, maybe five,” Grunt said, slamming his back around a corner from Garrus.

“Ugly bastards,” Garrus commented, leaning around his corner and taking a shot. “Shepard, there's one behind that stack of crates at about nine o'clock from where you are. I can't get a bead on him from here.”

“I'll jump for it, watch the rest. Grunt! Clear our right flank!”

Tactical cloak would keep her safer, but being invisible meant none of the other of what she presumed were Collectors would try to take a shot at her. She needed them to try and shoot her- so Garrus could shoot them. As she vaulted over the wall, her eyes scanned the cluttered battlefield and took it in at an instant.

Stacks of crates and pieces of machinery made a maze of cover for the strange creatures that were wielding unfamiliar weaponry. They'd have to be careful, work the angles. The nearest one was behind a stack of crates as Garrus had said, and she closed the distance.

Garrus' habitual cry of victory cut off in the middle, awkwardly. “One shot, one- wait, he's still moving.”

As she threw herself at the stack of crates, a bolt whizzed by her, a crackle of energy that she could feel the heat from. Throwing herself against cover opposite the Collector, she hit her tactical cloak. When it leaned around the corner, weapon at the ready, she gave it just long enough to wonder where she was before she started firing.

Even with direct hits and her rifle, it staggered back rather than falling, and she was forced to dodge around the cover to follow it. Her shield took three hits as the Collector tried to gather itself, but she fired until her heat sink started screaming at her, cutting through its shields and finally making an impact.

She fired until the gun overheated in her hands, dropping the rifle and grabbing her pistols, barely pausing for a second. Between the eyes. Lots of eyes to choose from. Eventually it stopped moving, and she flattened herself, breathing heavily.

“Those damned shields.”

“Not a fan,” Garrus agreed. “Thanks for giving me that opening. You up for giving me another one?”

“Damn, Vakarian. I didn't know you were into that!” she retorted, picking up her poor abused rifle again and dodging out from cover.

His puzzled inquiry cut off as a Collector saw her coming and leaned out from cover, taking a shot that hit her shields. Garrus' return shot cracked through _their_ shields, leaving them vulnerable. Faith did the rest of the work, once again overheating the stupid rifle and dropping it. That needed replacing.

A shot whizzed past her from the right, and she instinctively threw herself backwards, ducking around the end of the massive steel crate to slam herself against it.

No other shots followed, and she leaned around with her pistols to see Grunt bearing down on the Collector, firing heavily. She took a few shots from her vantage, and flanking it, it was down in no time. As she caught her breath, Garrus' cool voice crackled in her ear. “Looks clear.”

Grabbing her rifle again, Faith slung up to her feet and headed towards Grunt, trusting Garrus to warn her if anything was coming.

Grunt was kicking the Collector over onto its back, staring down at the corpse. She moved to his side, scanning the corpse from head to foot slowly, for the sake of the transmission. “You getting this, Mordin?”

When no response was forthcoming, she frowned and brought up her omni-tool.

“Shepard, signal doesn't seem to be getting through,” Garrus said.

She came to the same conclusion as her call failed. “Damn it. Did you set it to record backups, at least?”

“Who do you think you're talking to? Of course I did. But the Collectors must be jamming our transmissions.”

“So much for coordinating a double drop. I'll have to trust Miranda to make the call,” Shepard said. “Let's keep moving. Interesting creatures. Top-heavy. Insectoid. No signs of physical armor- weird.”

“You want them to have _more_ armor?” Grunt asked dubiously.

“No, I'm just saying it's strange for a sentient species to go into battle without physical protection. No matter how tough,” Shepard said, scanning around a corner, and then double-timing it down a slope.

“Then how do you explain Jack?” Garrus asked.

“You don't explain Jack, you experience her,” Shepard said, finding another spot against the retaining wall. “And if the Collectors were an all-Jack army, the galaxy would already be destroyed.”

A flicker of movement drew her eyes upward, and she squinted against the sun. A pair of distant figures flitted over a wall, heading in. Wait, the Collectors weren't just dropping in, they were- “The bastards fly! Incoming!”

Before they could get pinned down, she surged forward to meet the drops. A picnic table was in her way, and she bounced onto the bench and then the table, using momentum to launch herself off of it. Vaulting a low wall, she slammed her back against another one, peering down the slope.

“Three! One of them's got-”

She cut off as a beam crackled past her, slamming into the wall she'd jumped. The surface blackened, but the beam didn't stop- a continual weapon. Holy shit that thing looked nasty.

“What the hell, is that plasma?”

“It's giving me radiation readings. Don't get hit! That thing will melt your shields.” Garrus snapped back at her.

“If you're lucky,” Grunt rumbled.

With focused fire, they managed to get down the ones not wielding the big nasty beam weapon. She was trading fire when she happened to catch motion past the battlefield, rounding the corner of a building. The movements were erratic, flailing- familiar.

Oh shit.

“Husks! There's fucking husks! I'm intercepting!”

“I've got you covered,” Garrus replied.

Hitting her tactical cloak, she surged forward, slinging her assault rifle over her back. The beam cut a little too close for comfort as she surged past the Collector, but was interrupted by Grunt's shotgun blast. She vaguely saw the Collector go down from a sniper bullet to the head out of the corner of her vision.

Her omni-blade slashed out as she intercepted one of the husks, slicing through its throat in passing, blade shattering into the wound. Reappearing drew the other two to her, and she fended them off, giving her omni-tool time to replicate another blade. It'd been a while since she had the opportunity for hand-to-hand combat.

The second one went down to a knee-kick and started scrabbling back up, but she planted a foot on the back of its neck and ground its head into the dirt. Her blade went through the stomach of the third husk, out its back, as she retrieved a pistol and shot the one on the ground once, twice.

The one with the blade in its belly got a shot to the face and fell.

“Behind!”

A bullet whizzed past her and she jolted around, pistol up in the direction the bullet was going, not where it came from. Garrus' shot slammed into the shield of one of the Collectors that had appeared over a wall, sending it to the ground in a heap. As Grunt charged in, Shepard retreated to Garrus' cover, back pressed to the wall next to him.

“Told you I had you,” he said, not over comms.

“You always do.”

By the time she got her bearings again, the fight was over. Pushing up, she hitched her butt on the edge of the wall for a second, pulling out her assault rifle and looking it over. Pretty thing, but...

“This is garbage,” she declared, chucking it over her shoulder.

“Shepard, don't throw it out, it just needs a better heat sink,” Garrus told her as she pushed off the wall. She watched him out of the corner of her vision picking up the Avenger with a sigh. Faith hid a smirk.

“I want to try one of their guns, or the big-” Shepard wrinkled her nose as Grunt went past her and picked up the large beam weapon. “Aw.”

“It's better suited for me than you,” Grunt told her.

“Which I knew, but it's still cool. Does it still have ammo? That's going to be useful for cutting through their shields,” Shepard said, heading for the nearest dead Collector and picking up its rifle. Weird thing, looked halfway grown instead of just made. She turned over the odd assault rifle a few times- the barrel even kind of looked like a mouth. “I think this thing is _alive_ or something!”

“Shepard, do not use the living insect gun,” Garrus said.

“I'm gonna,” she retorted, after making sure it seemed to have a firing mechanism. A couple shots into the ground, and she figured she had it figured out. Nice.

Wandering over to the more humanoid corpses, she kicked it over. Yep, that was a husk. “It's our old friends, Garrus.”

“Which means geth, just like when we were dealing with Sovereign,” Garrus said, tiredly. “Damn it, I really didn't want that to be true.”

“Your Illusive Man was right. Collectors must work for the Reapers,” Grunt said, hefting the big particle beam.

Shepard wrinkled her nose at the 'your'. “Let's keep moving.”

Gesturing with her possibly-evil new weapon, she led the way.

The only thing worse than seeing the stasis pods was when they _stopped_ seeing the stasis pods.

It meant the colonists had probably already been taken onboard the Collector ship- not that Garrus was going to say that to Faith. He knew this was probably hard enough for her already. After they left the mechanic Delan behind, locked into a garage, she'd tried to call Miranda a few times, but they still were having some trouble getting through.

The fights got harder as they went along, but instincts and muscle memory were slowly sinking in. This wasn't hit and run, it wasn't ambushes- this wasn't like Omega. This was like old times.

Not completely, there were a few times were habit kicked in and he called out an order, but rather than taking offense, Shepard played off it. They bounced ideas back and forth, adapted to each other- it came naturally as breathing. Out here, all of the conflicts and complications didn't mean a damn thing.

They fit together without a hitch.

“There's the transmitter,” Grunt called out, pulling his attention away from the collapsing bulk of one of the big ones.

Faith jogged for it, and he fell in behind her. “Hopefully this can boost us enough to reach the ship. No offense, Garrus, but I think I'm going to have EDI handle these calibrations. It's nothing personal. We just don't have time.”

He scoffed, trying not to let it sting. Couldn't exactly hold a grudge against an AI, but- “This is my _thing_ , Shepard.”

“I'll buy you more big guns to make up for it,” she promised, heading for the computer. “Will you hack into this for me, at least?”

“Now you're just trying to sweeten me up,” he accused, knowing she could probably figure it out. Still, he brought up his omni-tool and deftly hacked the communications relay, linking the transmitter to her comms. “You should be in.”

“Normandy! Do you copy?”

“Joker here,” the familiar voice called in their ears, voice faint. “Signal's weak, but we got you.”

“Edi- can you get the colony's defense towers online?” Shepard asked, gesturing with her weapon to Grunt and then making a little circle. He nodded, and started patrolling the area.

“Errors in the calibration software are easily rectified, but it will take time to bring the towers to full power,” EDI said, calm and even. “I recommend a defensive posture. I will not be able to mask increased generator activity.”

“Great,” Garrus said, glancing around the area instinctively, stepping down the ramp from the transmitter. Considering the drop-in tactics of the Collectors, there would likely be incursion points from there...probably over there...

As he mapped the possible battlefield, he listened to the conversation.

“The Collectors will try to stop it,” Grunt chuckled in his ear. “Good.”

Yep, the kid was all krogan.

Faith snorted. “And then we'll stop them. Joker, have Miranda drop her squad if she hasn't already- there's people that need protecting. In stasis. One up, he's locked himself into a garage. Name of Delan. Tell him I sent them.”

“Enemy reinforcements closing in. I suggest you ready weapons,” EDI said.

He stepped back again, scanning from three to nine. The Collector ship was at twelve, a menacing bulk sticking up towards the sky. Bizarre thing, half organic-looking, like the weapons Shepard and Grunt had picked up. Very unsettling.

He saw the Collectors flitting in a second before Faith's shout, already pulling back and finding cover. Garrus was already lining up his first shots as she snapped flanking orders to Grunt, getting off two hits before they made it to ground. Enough to take one shield down.

It was a bit frustrating how tough the bastards were.

Wave after wave of Collectors came in, but the squad was more efficient now than they had been the first time taking them down. It wasn't an easy fight, but EDI calling out the progress of the generators helped them keep track, rather than feeling overwhelmed. Faith's tactics would have made any turian general cry, but they worked.

She always seemed to pop up where they weren't expecting.

As the generators hit a hundred percent and the turrets powered up, there was a brief lull. He could hear Faith breathing heavily, her voice in his ear a comforting presence through the fight. He'd taken one or two hits, but the new medi-gel system in the suit worked perfectly.

“Everyone intact?” she asked.

“That was nothing,” Grunt dismissed in a little growl.

Garrus was about to respond when his scan of the sky caught something coming. Something...big. “Incoming! What the hell is that thing?”

“Holy shi-” Faith said, cutting off as it abruptly fired.

The Collector was huge, some sort of floating insectoid creature. Less humanoid than the others, it seemed to have been implanted with- or grown with weaponry. Hell, maybe the gun Shepard had was some larval form of the things, who the hell knew? Either way, it was wildly different than the other ones they'd fought.

He saw the beams cut through Faith's shield, heard her shout, but the instant she went her shield down she disappeared. Garrus took another shot at the Collector, and swung his scope back towards her as he reloaded- Faith reappeared behind cover, and his momentary panic abated.

“You okay?”

“Only lightly fried. Keep the hell away from that weapon, it eats shields like it skipped breakfast!”

It wasn't her words that reassured, but the controlled tone of her voice. She'd be fine. He lined up another shot, dodging to the side and finding new cover. The beams seared the ground behind him. “It's got a biotic barrier up, we need to rip through that thing!”

“Grunt! Pull out that particle beam!” Shepard ordered.

Behind cover, feeling the heat from the beam trying to cut through the stack of crates, he slung his rifle over his back and grabbed the shotgun. Grunt cracked through the shield with the beam, he and Shepard followed with heavy fire. The thing moved constantly, and so did they, but he wasn't expecting it to abruptly slam into the ground as he was making for new cover again.

The impact wasn't just physical, it was biotic, and it sent him staggering back, momentarily stunned.

Vision swimming, ears ringing, he felt himself grabbed and thrown back, the motion only dizzying him further. The disruption abruptly stopped as he slammed into a stack of crates, just in time to see Faith get hit, taking the shot that had been meant for him. It blasted into her back, throwing her down onto one knee as it cracked her shields and pierced through to her armor.

She cried out, but he had her. Garrus reached out and grabbed the arm she had thrown towards him, pulling her around the crates and into his side. Her body tumbled over his thighs. Extremely distracting position normally, but he was too panicked about the hits she'd taken.

“The hell were you-” he cut off with a wince as the Collector fired again, scorching a black line into the ground a half-foot from their cover.

Faith crawled over him and collapsed on her back next to him. She scrabbled up to a sitting position, but he could see how heavy her body was in the way she moved, hear her labored breathing. “Let's make for that cover across from the transmitter. Grunt, hit the left side- you got any ammo left for that thing?”

“Enough to kill it!”

“That's all that matters,” Faith said, reloading her rifle, and then glancing over at Garrus. “On my count.”

Stifling his frustration with her recklessness, he nodded. When they bolted for new cover together, the scorch mark on her back was clearly visible, he could tell there was damage to the armor. It'd been a _bad_ hit. A few shots followed them, but while the Collector was mobile, it wasn't as fast as they were.

If it had been...who knew what might have happened to them.

Working in tandem, they finally got it down, but by the time they finished they'd all taken some hits. None so bad as Faith, though, who slumped against a crate even before the Collector finished falling, closing her eyes as she breathed heavily. He crouched down in front of her, ignoring the dead creature.

“Hey.”

“I'm okay,” she promised, straightening up with a wince. “I'm good, I'm tough. I'm...in need of a massage and a shot of whiskey.”

Garrus chuckled, relaxing at the humor in her voice. “How many times are you going to save my life, Shepard?”

Her eyes opened, and she smiled a faint, wistful smile, reaching up to clasp his shoulder. “I'll tell you the same thing some suicidal idiot once told me. As many times as it takes, Vakarian.”

Grabbing her elbow, he rose and pulled her with him. She heaved to her feet, thumping his shoulder once with her fist after releasing him. It felt good.

“He sounds like a charming and possibly very handsome and talented guy.”

“Hmm,” she replied, but he could hear the humor in her voice. “Grunt, it look clear?”

“They're pulling out!”

Stepping back together, they both turned their attention behind them and to the sky. It did look like the Collector ship was escaping. They barely had time to brace themselves before the impact of the thrusters coming online, and he instinctively grabbed Shepard's elbow as they staggered back from the booming wave of force.

It washed through them, past them, and when they finally glanced skyward the ship was disappearing.

“They got most of them,” Faith said, frustration in her tight, angry voice. “Damn it!”

“But not all,” he told her.

Abrupt chaos pulled their attention behind them. He brought up his shotgun, but at the sight of Miranda striding towards them, he dropped it. The mechanic they'd run into surged past them, frantically staring up at the sky.

“No! Don't let them get away!”

“There's nothing we can do,” Shepard said, voice apologetic and comforting. He heard the crack, though, the small shudder that barely got through. “I'm sorry. They're gone.”

Breathing heavily, staggering to a stop, Delan still stared after the disappearing ship. “Half the colony's in there! They took Egan and Sam and...and Lilith! Do something!”

He stepped back from Faith as the other squad approached. Kasumi and Jacob behind Miranda. Faith gave them a nod, and then glanced back at the mechanic. Her voice was apologetic, but firm. “I'm sorry, we saved everyone we could. I didn't want it to end this way, either.”

“It was a good fight, Shepard,” Grunt said.

“Shepard...I know that name,” Delan said, glancing between them. “Sure, I remember you. Some kind of big Alliance hero.” The dismissive scoff in his voice was clear.

Faith didn't flinch. At least, she didn't until a familiar voice sounded out, coming closer. Shepard stiffened, shoulders straightening as Ashley Williams walked around the side of a building. He saw the hand that Faith held up, back to Miranda. Asking her to stay back and stay out of it- probably wise.

“Commander Shepard. Captain of the Normandy. The first human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel,” Ash recited, voice neutral. She looked them over briefly as she approached, and the withdrawn look on her face thawed minutely when their eyes met. Garrus nodded to her, and she returned it before her eyes went back to Faith. She glanced over at Delan. “You're in the presence of a god, Delan. Back from the dead.”

“All the people we lost, and you get left behind,” he scoffed. “Figures. Screw this. I'm done with you Alliance types.” Throwing up his hands, he walked away.

Faith was still tense, and even stranger for her, silent. He wondered if it had anything to do with the message she'd received from Toombs. That couldn't have been easy to hear.

“We thought you were dead, Commander. We _all_ did,” Ash said, after another sidelong glance at Garrus.

Faith glanced down at Ash's hand extended towards her, and then stepped in and clasped her forearm. Her voice was quietly neutral. “I was. Now I'm not any more.”

“You're joking,” Ash said, releasing her.

“She's really not,” Garrus finally said, extending his hand towards her. She gazed at him a few seconds, and then returned the gesture, squeezing his arm for a few seconds. Longer than she'd held Shepard's. “She's telling the truth, Ash. Faith hasn't been up for more than-”

“A couple months,” Shepard admitted.

“Then why didn't you try to contact me? Why didn't you let me know you were alive? I had to find out from rumors, Shep,” Ash replied, angrily.

“I-” Faith rolled her shoulders in a shrug, awkwardly. “I haven't even called my mom, Ash, okay? I'm dealing with a lot.”

“With Cerberus?” Ashley asked, dark eyes narrowing. “How does it feel to be the bad guys, Shepard?”

He saw Faith flinch, visibly.

“Ash-”

Shepard's hand on his arm stopped Garrus, a light pat. Despite wanting to come to her defense, he closed his mouth. No, this was Faith's fight, not his.

“Just because we have a common goal right now doesn't mean I'm working for them,” Shepard said quietly.

“Alliance intel said Cerberus could be behind our missing colonies. We got a tip that this one could be the next one to get hit. I went to Anderson, but-” Ash shook her head- “he wouldn't talk. But there were rumors you weren't dead. Worse; that you were working for the enemy. It turns out they're true.”

“I want to stop the Collectors. They're working with the Reapers- that's all this is, Ash. Yes, Cerberus brought me back, but that doesn't mean I belong to them. We have a common goal right now,” Faith said stubbornly, shaking her head. “We have to stop these attacks. We're losing whole colonies.”

“You and I _both_ know what they're like,” Ash said, shaking her head. “If they really brought you back- what price are you really willing to pay for this? I want to believe you, but- what if the Alliance is right? What if they're the ones working with the Collectors?”

“Ash, come on,” Garrus finally said, gesturing with one hand. “We just saved as many people as we could- do you really think we're here to play nice with those bug bastards?”

“Maybe _you_ aren't,” Ash said, giving him a long look. “But you and I both know you'd follow Shepard straight into hell without question.”

Did she really have to say that in front of everyone?

“Thanks, Ash. Appreciate the vote of confidence,” he said sarcastically.

“It's just the truth,” Ash said, lifting her shoulders in a shrug.

“All I want is to _save_ people, Ash. If the Alliance won't listen, what can I do but work with the people who are?” Faith asked, frustrated. “You know me, damn it! You know I wouldn't do this for the wrong reasons.”

“That doesn't mean you're not being manipulated,” Ashley said, shaking her head. “Alliance is in my blood, Shepard. Just like I thought it was in yours. I get that Cerberus brought you back, but- I can't back you on this, I'm sorry.”

“I respect you, and I respect your principles,” Shepard said, but Garrus heard the crack in her voice.

Ashley's face didn't soften, but her voice was less aggressive. “Does Em know you're alive?”

“She will soon,” Faith said quietly. “Just...trying to find the right time.”

A small, sarcastic snort escaped Ashley, and she shook her head. “Well. I'm reporting back to the Citadel. I guess we'll see if they believe your story. Garrus, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah,” he said, stepping away from the group, giving Faith a nod. She returned it, and he paced away from the group, hearing Ashley say goodbye, and then follow him.

Once they were a decent distance away, he turned to face her. Her eyes searched his face as he pulled off his helmet, eyes lingering on the right side of his face. With a grimace, he lifted a hand. “Come on, it's not that bad, is it?”

“I've seen worse,” Ash dismissed with a shrug. “On krogans. You really sure that's her, Garrus?”

“You really sure this is me?” he retorted, annoyed but understanding.

“Now why would Cerberus fake you up? You're a nobody,” she replied, and they shared a humorless laugh. It faded, and they stared at each other for a few long moments. “She's...Shepard. Isn't she?”

“It's Faith,” he said, because he had to believe it not just for himself- but because he didn't know if Faith was still questioning herself, too. “A fake couldn't be this much of a pain in my ass. She's trying, Ash. It's complicated and she hates them as much as she ever did, but this is bigger than that right now. You saw what just happened.”

“I did,” Ash said, crossing her arms. “Can't you convince her, or...something? There's got to be another way.”

“And while we're looking for it, people will be disappearing,” Garrus dismissed. “Sorry. It's too late to change course. We don't know when the next attack will come. I know what she said, but it would really mean everything to her if you would fight with us.”

“I can't. If that _is_ Shepard, she understands that.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. But hell, that didn't mean it wasn't going to hurt her. That was fine. Garrus would be there if she needed him.

“Well-”

“Listen-”

They tumbled over each other, and then both stopped. Ash gestured at him with one hand, and Garrus sighed. “Don't say anything to the kid. Okay? This is something Faith has to do herself.”

“Fine,” Ash said, lips tightening into a line. “Just stay safe out there, all right?”

“You too,” he said, and they clapped each other on the shoulder.

Garrus watched Ash leave until he heard the shuttle coming in from behind, turning to watch it land. Faith was standing a bit apart from everyone else, arms wrapped around herself, fingers digging into her shoulders. Hugging herself.

Trudging back up the incline, he paused just behind her. He was debating bridging the gap when she looked over her shoulder at him, face behind her helmet pensive. They stared at each other as the first group piled into the shuttle, dragging one of the Collector corpses with them. He didn't ask. Probably for Mordin.

“We'll send the shuttle right back down, Commander,” Miranda said, before the door slid closed.

Apparently there would be no krogan lap-sitting- for the best. Less crushed bones.

Faith was still staring at him, the wind from the shuttle whipping around them as it rose. The sound slowly tapered off, leaving them in silence.

“Hey.”

She breathed in, head tilting, their eyes still holding. “Are you?”

“Am I what?” he asked.

Faith dropped her head, finally breaking their eye contact. “Gonna follow me into hell?”

Garrus didn't even really need to think about it, despite not having been fond of Ash saying it in front of everyone. It was still true. Even with the new revelations he wasn't sure how to deal with, that hadn't changed. It probably never would.

“I'll be right behind you.”


	19. Chapter 19

Sitting with her legs folded in the middle of her bed, Shepard stared at her omni-tool.

With only fourty minutes before she had to go see Karin again for her next dose, it was sort of a now or never proposition. No matter what was going on, her calls with Mom never lasted long. She just wasn't that talky. It'd be fine. This was going to be fine.

It wouldn't be a dramatic reunion. She wouldn't reject Faith the way that Ashley had. No, no, not the time to dwell and sulk over that- she knew Ash did just what Faith probably would have done in the same situation. It still hurt, but she'd known it was coming.

Breathing in deeply, she hit the comm address Anderson had sent her.

It was immediately rejected to messages as an unknown address- Mom for sure. “It's me. Call me back.” Hanging up the recording, Faith stared at her omni-tool and waited.

It took thirty seconds.

“Faith?!”

“Hey, Captain,” she said quietly. “Or- is it still Captain?”

Three seconds passed, and then there was a deep breath.

“Attempts at a promotion were made...” Mom said, normally stentorian voice understandably reserved after her initial exclamation. “And avoided. Code twelve.”

“Hotel-Bravo-Romeo,” Faith replied, unsurprised but amused by the request. It was untranslatable, and referenced something only known by then. Suddenly Shepard realized where she'd gotten the morse code idea from. Thanks, Mom. “Harrison, Babu, Romanov. Harrison taught me how to play darts on the Alliance research frigate Curie, Babu was your XO- she barely tolerated me. Vanna Romanov was your Yeoman, she used to somehow find those weird little strawberry candies from Earth and kept forgetting I couldn't eat them.”

“It is you,” Mom confirmed briskly. “When I thought you were going classified I didn't think you were going _this_ classified, sweetheart.”

It would be an easy fib, and it would reassure mom, but she couldn't do that. If things got bad, she'd need mom to help her navigate this. The fact that mom wasn't crying and freaking out, she wasn't the least bit surprised- that wasn't mom.

“Negative, Captain. I died. Not to be dramatic, but I was legally dead. Cerberus scooped up my body-”

“The terrorists?”

“Ye-eah. Or at least an arm of Cerberus that keeps claiming that they aren't associated with the terrorists. They brought me back to life somehow- rebuilt the Normandy. I'm not happy to be on the wrong side of the Alliance, but considering the galaxy decided I was a fucking delusional, raving lunatic while I was dead-”

“Faith, let's moderate our language,” Mom said.

It was so hilariously not the time for that statement that Faith almost laughed.

It was best just to give mom all the info, lay it out, and let her come to her own conclusion. So Faith did. She reported the entirety of the current situation, the way the Council had disregarded her warnings and the media had twisted it, what Cerberus was asking for her, and what she'd been doing. All of it.

As always, it felt like reporting to a superior officer.

Mom's lack of dramatics didn't bother her, it never did- that wasn't their relationship. Asking her to be someone other than who she was wasn't fair at all. Any childhood resentment was long gone, and she appreciated mom for who she was now, and not for what she couldn't do.

“Processing,” Mom finally said when Faith fell silent.

“Mhmm,” Faith agreed, standing up and wandering over to get her brush. Slinging down into the chair, she reached up for her hair and let it down, untwisting from the braid.

“This situation is precarious for you, Commander. Are you certain it's your responsibility?”

“Aye, ma'am. I have the most experience with the Reapers, and they only enshrined me because I died- they don't like the reality of me, just the idea. The Alliance will not move on this situation due to my say-so.”

“Especially not with your association with Cerberus,” Mom pointed out.

“Which I had no initial choice in. I have a choice now, but unfortunately, I'm backed into a corner. I need to stop these attacks.”

“If you were intending to work with them while convincing them of your good will, you should have faced the situation with your cybernetics head-on rather than using underhanded methods,” Mom said.

Faith chuckled. “I'm more paranoid than you are. I don't care if Cerberus knows I don't trust them. They're letting me bring people on-board I do trust, and that's enough for me. If I make the call to work against Cerberus in the end, I know most of these people will have my back.”

“I'm just concerned about your safety, pumpkin.”

“I know, mama. I don't know where this is going to lead right now, but I'm going to do everything I can to stop the Collectors.”

“We'll leave it there for now until I have some time to think about it. How is Lieutenant Moreau?”

“Grumpy,” Faith said fondly, with a little laugh. “He's okay. Happy to be flying, you know him.”

“What's your current destination? I can rearrange a brief shore leave over to the Citadel.”

Faith stared blankly at a wall for a few seconds, surprised. Wow, that was kind of a big gesture for Mom. “Umh, absolutely, Mom. We're going to Earth briefly, and then heading to Citadel after. Shouldn't be more than four days.”

There was a pause, and then Mom inquired, “Earth?”

“I'm getting Emi,” Faith said flatly, rather than hiding it.

There was another long pause from the other side, and then a sigh. “Faith, I understand that you dislike your father...” The 'irrationally' was unspoken, but Faith could still hear it. “But considering your current situation, that is absolutely a selfish and poor choice. You and I both know that.”

Faith could tell her the truth.

She could tell Mom everything, and be open and honest, but- Mom would blame herself. The problem was, Faith couldn't say it was absolutely wrong for Mom to have some of the blame for what had happened. It wasn't something Faith would hold against her.

But damn it, Faith had _begged_ her to not be forced to spend time with dad.

Again, she and Amanda had long worked it out, and there was no bitterness now. Not for Mom. Faith hadn't ever been honest with her, and trying to assign blame now was pointless. Telling her the truth wouldn't help anything. All she could do now was protect Emi.

“You don't need to understand, mama. You don't need to approve. I'm not going to keep her on the Normandy, though, I'll find somewhere else for her to stay.”

Captain Hannah sighed. “Understood.”

Blinking in surprise, Faith asked, “what, no more second guessing me?”

“Would that do anything? You certainly didn't consult me before adopting her.”

From anyone else that would be a challenge or a passive-aggressive statement. From Mom? Just a fact. An entirely true fact that Faith couldn't dispute.

“But who's going to keep me cautious if not for you, Mom?” Faith asked with a small, sad smile. Who knew she'd miss disapproval, of all things?

“I'm very grateful you're alive. But I need some time to process this all, pumpkin, it's a lot to handle. I'll see you at the Citadel. Is David aware of the entirety of the situation?”

“I haven't seen him since I got the implants removed, so no. I suppose I should update him.”

“All right, I'll arrange a dinner that you can attend.”

“Sounds good.” It took her a second to remember. “Oh, no, wait. Mom, it's okay. My allergy list has been cut down by about two thirds, and there's not much left on the 'deathly allergic' side,” Faith said quickly. “Being dead for two years was helpful in that regard, I guess, umh. I can send you an amended list.”

“Oh...well, that's a surprise.”

Dragging the brush through her hair, Faith smiled to herself. “The doctor from the SR-1 is here, she's working on a treatment plan with me. It's a work in progress.”

“Your doctor left the Alliance as well? Faith...that speaks of a certain level of trust that comes with a great deal of responsibility. People are putting themselves on the wrong side of the law...for you,” Mom said, slow and thoughtful.

“I promise you, mom, no matter what happens...I won't forget that,” Faith said quietly, letting the enormity of it sink in for just a minute. She was absolutely right. “I won't. I'll do whatever I can to protect them.”

“Irregardless of who you may or may not be duty-bound to at this moment in time, your first responsibility is to your crew.”

“Well, fate of the galaxy, _then_ crew,” Faith joked. Before Mom could get on her about not taking it seriously, she added, “I've got it. I understand. No matter what happens, I'll take full responsibility for this- I won't let anyone suffer consequences for their loyalty.”

“I know you won't. I love you, Commander.”

“I love you, Captain,” Faith confirmed with a small smile.

The call ended without further ceremony, and Faith gave a long, slow sigh of relief. Slightly delayed punishment. She'd halfway thought that was how it'd go- Mom liked time to sort things through in her head. No doubt she'd get a lecture at Citadel, though.

That was fine, Mom's lectures were always on point.

Twisting her hair up into a bun, she unfolded her legs and slid off of the bed, leaving her brush behind. One thing dealt with. The next thing could be handled in transit. But first...

Sending out a call over ship comms, she cleared her throat. “Kasumi. Vakarian. Jack. I'm going to need you on Earth. Debriefing room, please. I've got a plan, but I need to hammer the dents out of it.”

Idly she tested her back as she walked, twisting lightly. Not so stiff any more. She'd taken a damn bad hit down on Horizon, but a good rest would take care of any discomfort that remained. Luckily she hadn't lost too much blood before the medi-gel did its work.

“Ugh, not another mission where we're not killing anyone?” Jack asked, annoyed.

“Now, nobody said that,” Garrus drawled. “You never know.”

“No, we're not killing anyone,” Faith said as she headed out for the elevator, ignoring Garrus' snort. She'd promised to take him, but if he was spoiling for a fight... “I'm sorry for not taking you to fight the weird bugs, Jack. Don't worry, there's plenty more of them.”

Garrus cleared his throat. “Let me finish these calibrations, I won't be long.”

“Kasumi?” Faith asked, pushing out of the elevator.

“I'm already there.”

Shepard ended the call as she passed through the armory, giving Jacob a nod on her way. He returned it, and then went back to the gun he was taking apart. Kasumi was indeed there, perched on the table with her legs folded.

“Mordin is dissecting the Collectors. Interesting to watch,” Kasumi remarked, painted lips quirking up into an amused smile. “Shepard. If you order now, the disguise you need for our excursion will be ready by the time we reach the Citadel.”

Oh god, Faith had forgotten about that.

“Can't I wear a nice pantsuit or something?” she begged, and then sighed at the slight shake of Kasumi's head. “Okay, okay, okay. Ugh. I haven't worn heels in like three- five years, you know.”

“You're sufficiently graceful, you'll be fine.”

“So you help me steal something, then I'll help you steal something. I suppose it's fair deal,” Faith sighed tiredly. She didn't want to wear a dress, but sometimes that's what you had to do. It was the exposed skin she was more worried about than the heels. The door opened, and she glanced over her shoulder as Jack and Garrus entered, the latter still on his omni-tool.

“Thievery? Ah, I suppose that answers some of my questions about this trip,” Kasumi said mildly.

“We're stealing something?” Jack asked, looking less annoyed. “What, like robbing a bank?”

“You wish,” Faith said with a faint chuckle, stepping around the table. “Less thievery, more kidnapping, but...I'm going to be honest here.” The more she said it, the easier it would be to do so- and she needed people to understand why this was important to her. “After I died I adopted a kid- confusing, but apparently true according to the documents I dug up. I don't have a relationship with my father. He physically abused me as a kid. They placed the kid with him, and I'm not happy about that. I don't trust him not to pull something if he knows I'm coming for her.”

“Kidnapping and murder? I'm on board,” Jack said.

“No murder,” Shepard said mildly.

“Well...” Garrus started, shrugging when she turned a hard look on him. “It'd be a public service.”

Faith was bothered by how serious he seemed to be. “There will be no murder.”

“Maiming?” Jack suggested.

“A couple shots in the leg would send a message,” Garrus said.

“There will be no guns!” Shepard said, exasperation rising. “Let me get this out, would you? I contacted an old N-School friend in Maine who is going to send a couple ground vehicles down to the Concord spaceport to wait for us. It's about a thirty mile drive, not long at all. I'm going to send you two in to retrieve the kid via window. Get her packed, out. Jack, you're there on the off-chance that something goes wrong. If it does, your goal doesn't change, just the method does. Get her and get out of there. Stuff can be replaced. Kid cannot.”

It was vastly simplified, and didn't mention her abusing her Spectre status to skip customs and immigration, but that was stuff she could handle herself.

“You're going to trust me with your kid,” Jack said dubiously.

Not the time for a 'not really my kid' speech.

“Yeah, I am. Once you're on board the Normandy, I'm going to knock on the door and tell him to fuck off and not look for her or I'm going to be in a bad mood. Hopefully in the fifteen, twenty minutes it takes Garrus and I to get back to the port, there's not going to be time for any sort of lock down- middle of the night will help ensure this. But I'm hoping getting in his face will prevent him from going to the authorities.”

“Air car would be faster,” Garrus said, though she could tell from his voice he wasn't happy with the plan.

“Air cars are easier to lock down on Earth, and track. Besides, if I override the auto-pilot, the speed limit on that stretch of road is a hundred and ten so we'll be fine,” Faith dismissed. “Air cars are more strictly regulated.”

“It seems like a simple job,” Kasumi said mildly. “Do we have a floor plan or information about security?”

“Negative,” Faith said, grateful one of them at least wasn't thinking about murder and mayhem. Damn it, if Garrus was going to insist on coming, she couldn't have him on a hairpin trigger. He needed to be in control. “It's a fairly standard prefab upper-class three story suburban home. I'll send you the address. Maybe you can dig something up.”

“Fucking white picket fence,” Jack said mockingly. “Yeah, sure. Let's go steal a kid.”

“The security should be easy to disable,” Kasumi said thoughtfully.

“Do you know if Emi's comms are being monitored, Garrus?” Faith asked, finally looking at him again.

Yeah, he was pissed. Arms folded tightly, eyes focused in on her intently. “It's a possibility.”

“I'll call her once you've infiltrated, then, so she knows it's safe to go with you,” Shepard decided, and then gave a long sigh. “It shouldn't take long.”

“Seems simple to me,” Jack said with a shrug.

“The security should be no trouble, Shepard. Here, let me send you the catalog.” Kasumi brought up her omni-tool, and sent it over.

“Great,” she muttered, but accepted. Kasumi was doing this for her, the very least she could do was look at a catalog and push some buttons. She wasn't being forced to go to a store, so it could be worse. “All right. It's a simple plan, but the less moving parts, the less likely something will go wrong. We'll be there and synced to the proper time in about thirty-two hours, so plan your sleep accordingly. Dismissed.”

Kasumi headed back for the tech lab, and Jack departed, but Garrus stayed where he was, arms still folded. Faith leaned against the table, reaching up to rub the back of her neck, fingers drumming uneasily. Great. She waited until doors were closed, and they had a few seconds of silence before she finally spoke.

“I don't wanna fight,” Faith said tiredly.

“Yeah, you've made that pretty clear,” he said irritably. “You really want us to go into this unarmed?”

“Yes, we're not fucking storming a small town in New Hampshire in armor with shotguns, Garrus! We're not thugs. This is about Emi's safety, and _nothing_ else.”

It was the accusation in his voice that set her off. “Why are you letting him get _away_ with this, Faith?”

Okay, fine. He wanted her mad? Now she was mad.

Faith grabbed Garrus by the cowl and yanked him down, forcing him to meet her eyes. He didn't fight her, glaring right back. She tried to keep her voice even, but it was hard- how dare he turn this around on her like that? “Do you think I'm going to _enjoy_ this? No. But I'm not going to fucking go in there guns blazing because some asshole might have hurt me when I was a kid. How would hurting him do _anything_?”

“It would keep him from hurting anyone else,” he replied, eyes fixed on hers, brilliantly blue.

“So would sending him to jail. But right now? Getting Emi to safety is our _only_ mission. Do you think I don't want to hurt him if he hurt her? But you promised me. You promised me you wouldn't let me be that asshole.”

She clung to his cowl with her knuckles pressed to his armor, pulling him down to meet her face to face. He was furious, but when his hand lifted and knuckles stroked down her cheek, his hand was gentle. The touch made her freeze, anger dying instantly.

“I won't let you,” he promised her.

Her relief at his statement was short-lived.

“That's why _I'll_ be that asshole. I can promise you he'll never hurt anyone again once I'm done with him,” Garrus finished, rage simmering in his voice.

She shook him, lightly, her voice hardening again. No, she wasn't going to let a little cheek-touch convince her to let him get away with this. “If he's hurt her we'll do whatever we can to see justice done, Garrus. But we don't know he has.”

Garrus scoffed. “We know he hurt you. That's enough for me.”

“Don't-” she denied, cutting off before she inhaled sharply. The pain in her chest was acute, frustrated, but complicated. She was so used to defending herself, doing things alone that even despite her conflict she was pathetically pleased that he wanted to defend her. But no, no... “Don't do this for me. Don't _be_ this for me.”

“Let me do _something_ ,” he retorted angrily, throwing up his hands, breaking her hold on him. Sinking back against the table, she wrapped her arms around herself and watched him pace, his voice rising in frustration.

“I'm not on the extraction team, fine. I get that. But you want me to- to just stand there and do nothing? Why am I even there? You're making me feel useless!”

The rude answer was because he told her he wouldn't be left behind. And that was part of the answer, but...

She had to be honest with him.

“Because I'm _scared_ , Garrus! I haven't faced him down since he took me to court, okay? I haven't _spoken_ to him since that day, or looked at him, or- or...I just pushed it all down. I just shoved it down, and down- and I've been angry because angry is strong, but I'm not. The instant I thought about him hurting someone else, it- it all crumbled.”

To her gratitude, some of his agitation faded, his shoulders slumping as he stalled. “You _are_ strong, Faith _._ ”

She shook her head, voice cracking. “Not without you there. I have to face this for Emi, but if I go in there crying and cringing, or if I go in there violently, the bastard wins. You make me strong, Garrus. You're my best friend, you're my partner, and damn it, I need you with me.”

It was maybe a confession too far, but she was trying so hard to do things right this time. She glanced down as his hand extended, and then hesitated before touching her elbow. Faith unfolded her arms at last, letting go of protecting herself. It was hard. She'd never really leaned on anyone before, but with him, she wanted to.

He still hadn't said anything, and it was starting to make her nervous.

“I'm not good at this, take pity on me,” she said with a hint of sad humor. “Better at big speeches than emotional honesty, Garrus.”

Sighing, he finally finished reaching for her, hand sliding up her arm from the elbow. “I want to believe all that, but I feel like I've failed you so many times already, Faith,” he said, tired and slow.

“You didn't fail me. You've never failed me,” she denied softly, eyes getting watery as his hand slowly slid along the curve of her shoulder, a comforting, secure weight. Damn it, she knew he said he needed space, but she wasn't going to _stop_ him, either. He'd been warned.

“I feel like I failed Emi, too,” he said quietly. “I should have known something was wrong-”

“Hey,” she interrupted. She was glad he was being open with her, but she needed him to know this wasn't his fault. “No. It's not blame time, it's fixing time. We're going to get her safe, and we're going to make sure no one hurts her again. And if he hurt her, we're going to make sure he pays for it.”

He sighed, hand flexing on her shoulder. “And what about you? Are we just going to ignore that he hurt you? We're not going to do anything about it?”

“Yeah,” she said simply, unable to help the apology in her voice. She understood all too well what it felt like to be helpless, unable to fix something. “Because it's not about me. It's not about you. It's about her. Everything that happened to me is over, and I can protect myself now. All I need is you to stand up next to me.”

His thumb brushed against the side of her neck, and she shivered and leaned into it. There was a moment of hesitation, a pause, and when she glanced up her eyes met his again. He was so close.

His hand slid up the side of her neck, cradling her jaw.

“I'm here,” Garrus confirmed, quietly.

There was the barest inward pressure of his hand, a tentative beckon. Faith followed it. There was a soft, pleasantly nervous flutter in her stomach as their foreheads touched, his just a little cool, leaching the heat from her skin. Garrus slid his free arm around her back, holding her close, and she returned the gesture. She let out a shuddering breath, eyes closing.

It wasn't the first time they'd done this, but before it was always with something in the way, or with the knowledge that it was going to hurt her. Now it felt safe, secure, an intimacy that was comforting and grounding. The way it should be.

“I can't kill you,” he said, and she couldn't tell if it was a question, or if he was reassuring himself.

“No, not any more,” she said, reaching up and curling her fingers around the side of his hand, thumb brushing across both of his fingers. “And I'm being careful. It's fucking embarrassing as hell, I'm not going to lie to you, talking to Karin about this stuff, but...I'm doing it. 'Cause I want this to work, and I want it to stick.”

She felt the barest motion of a nod, her lips quirking up into a little smile. The side of his thumb nudged the corner of her mouth, the slightest brush of one of those dangerous talons tickling.

“I need a little time to do some thinking, but...could we talk about it later? I'm not really sure how your allergy treatments work, so I'd like you to run me through it. Tell me what's going on.”

“Yeah, but I'm gonna get like, really embarrassed,” Faith said with a little laugh, the sudden hope making this all a little easier. If he wanted to try and work things out...

“Works for me,” he replied, finally sounding more like his usual self. “But I'll take pity on you a little. Couple drinks and a movie first? I think I need to relax before we get to Earth or I might do something I shouldn't.”

“Mmh,” she agreed, smiling faintly to herself. “I've missed our movie time.”

“Enough to let me pick?” he asked, and then chuckled faintly when she nodded. “Didn't expect to win so easily.”

“Just this once,” she said, regretting it intensely as he started to pull away from her, even if the armor wasn't all that comfortable. When his hand dropped from her cheek, though, he briefly turned it over and squeezed hers. It helped a little. “Unless you get smug about it. Long distance movie night?”

“Probably for the best. Sorry, Trouble, but you and me plus alcohol has a way of making us too reckless. No way I let myself hurt you again.”

The use of the nickname quelled the sting a little bit. She shouldn't sulk over it, he was absolutely right. Though the idea that 'reckless' for them had once been holding hands like teenaged idiots under the cover of a table was pretty hilarious. Glancing down, she smiled to herself, reaching out and taking his hand again. He let her.

“What?”

“Being reckless,” she teased, and then gave it a squeeze before releasing him. “It's just nice to stop for a second and realize that I can do that without worrying.”

“Speaking of reckless...probably should be more careful,” Garrus said, stepping back and glancing around the room. “Not exactly a private place.”

She snorted, amused. “Unless you were planning to rip off my clothes, throw me down on this table and-”

“Faith,” Garrus replied, a warning. Now _that_ was a voice she remembered.

Hiding a grin, she took pity on him and dropped it for now. “I'm not too worried, all I'm trying to say. Not an Alliance vessel, for one.”

“You're still the Commander,” he reminded her, stepping back.

She regretted it, but he said he needed time to think, and- hell, letting him have the space and time he needed seemed to be working. “So they tell me. I'll see you at dinner?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, turning for the door.

Faith watched him go, fingers lifting to brush across her forehead as the door closed behind him.

Oh, she was going to kick this allergy's _ass_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to split the chapter, got too bulky. Happy Monday!


	20. Chapter 20

Through the entire mid-shift, Garrus' mind was a mess.

Holing up in the battery to calibrate the Thanix kept him occupied, but untangling his own feelings and thoughts was a lot more complicated. How the hell was he supposed to sort through them? Everything he'd been able to set aside to face the situation on Horizon was still there, unresolved, and now had new layers and complications tossed on top of it.

Faith had always been dangerous to him, but apparently Faith trying to be open with him was worse.

He'd always known she kept things to herself, that she wasn't good at being vulnerable or honest. With her, he'd always been the opposite- it was so rare to just fit with someone so effortlessly that he didn't even think about putting up walls. But now they'd flipped roles, and he was the one holding back.

It wasn't that he wanted to punish her or anything.

What was it that he wanted?

Maybe that was the place to start- because he definitely couldn't sort that out around her. As soon as he got within ten feet of her he stopped thinking. The resentment he'd been feeling towards her was fading, and the anger had better targets, but the fear- the fear was still there. The fear that things wouldn't get better, that in the end he'd end up standing there while she walked away.

Her giving up.

Garrus wasn't willing to go through that again.

When she'd admitted she wanted a second chance for them, there was a part of him that had immediately wanted to agree. But the fear got in the way. At least now he could honestly say he had his friend back, that it was her. She wasn't some odd stranger any more, but Faith, wholly and completely.

That didn't mean he trusted her, though.

But what he wanted...he knew he wanted her. Garrus had from the start, but before he'd realized the flirting might be more than just joking around he'd almost killed her. Not that it had stopped them. Whatever there was that dragged them together was stronger than fear, and definitely stronger than common sense.

As a turian he'd been raised to acknowledge that casualties were part of life, and an expected one at that.

But not _her_.

She'd died, but she'd come back to him and saved his life. It almost stupid that she'd have to even ask him for a second chance, because there was no one else in the galaxy that he could imagine wanting the way he wanted her. Shepard was his best friend, one of the only ones he _had_ any more. The person who belonged at his side.

And it wasn't fair for him to put all the blame for how things ended on her.

The truth of the matter was, no matter how angry he'd been that she'd decided it wouldn't work between them...he hadn't fought back.

He'd given up, just like he'd given up on C-Sec. Spectre training. All of it- he'd given up because he got angry at a few bumps in the road.

It was hard to believe what Faith said, that he could change things for the better, because all he could see was failure after failure. Even when it came to them. And her death. It probably wasn't fair, but it all felt like failures, no matter how much she reassured him that he hadn't.

Maybe it was himself he was angry at now.

“Garrus?”

Blinking, he pulled his attention from the floor he'd been staring at for the last ten minutes. “Yeah, doctor?”

“You were supposed to come see me an hour ago,” Doctor Chakwas reminded him over comms. “It's time for your bandages to come off.”

“Sorry, got caught up in-” Hesitating, he changed his mind and finished, “calibrations. Just calibrations.”

“They'll keep, Garrus.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he chuckled, dropping his omni-tool and heading for the door. “On my way.”

It wasn't much of a walk to the medi-bay. He said hello to Gardner making dinner in passing, and got a friendly greeting from the Mess Sargent. Nice enough guy. He felt bad Garrus couldn't eat anything, but it didn't bother him.

Funny how friendly most of the people on a Cerberus vessel seemed to be.

Then again, a lot of the stories ended up sounding the same- former Alliance disenchanted with how they were handling the Reaper business. That was a sentiment he could agree with. It gave them a commonality despite who they worked for and what he was. Didn't make him like _Cerberus_ , though.

Just the crew.

Though the upgraded Normandy and all the new toys did make it a lot easier to put up with working for the people who caused Shepard so much grief.

“Sorry for the delay,” he said, even before the medi-bay doors had finished opening, stepping inside.

Doctor Chakwas gave him an amused look, gesturing to the nearest table. “I didn't think you were so fond of the bandages.”

“Maybe a little nervous to see the full extent of the damage,” he said honestly, settling down on the edge of the table. “I make a living with this face, doctor.”

She chuckled, shaking her head as she picked up a datapad. “Well, if you find yourself self-conscious- perfectly understandable- I've been researching turian cosmetic surgery. I am not going to claim expertise, certainly, but I should be able to find you a referral if you like.”

“I wouldn't go that far,” he said, holding still as she removed the dressing carefully. “Nothing wrong with a few scars. You know, as long as they don't hurt my chances at the bar.”

The look the doctor turned on him was just a little too knowing for comfort. “Hmm, indeed. And you've still had no tinnitus, is that correct?”

“Somehow,” he said in agreement. “Can't tell you if my hearing's recovered or if I'm just not noticing it any more.”

“Then we'll begin the hearing test,” Doctor Chakwas said,

They were most of the way through it when the door slid open, and he glanced up and over. Faith blinked at him as their eyes met, and she immediately took a step back. He lifted a hand, quickly assuring her, “almost done. I was late to meet the doc, it's my fault.”

“I'll step out.”

“Just stay,” he dismissed. It wasn't the test he cared about her reaction to, but the fully exposed scarring. No way to hide that.

Doctor Chakwas glanced between them briefly, but didn't comment. It wasn't like it was the first time. “Unfortunately, it seems as if your hearing on the right side hasn't entirely recovered. The good news is it's only a difference of about three to four decibels, and is still within the realm of 'normal' hearing. Further damage might require surgical intervention or cybernetic enhancement.”

“Considering I took a rocket to the face, I should probably be grateful,” he chuckled, lifting a hand towards the side of his head, and then dropping it before he touched the scarring.

“Battlefield injury is the number one cause of hearing loss in turians. Try to be careful,” Karin said, turning for the counter.

“Isn't battlefield injury the number one cause of _all_ injuries in turians?” Shepard quipped, flashing him a little grin.

“And what's the number one cause in humans?” he asked, returning the tease with good humor.

“Hubris, generally,” Faith said cheerfully.

He couldn't help the smile. “That tracks. Anything else, doctor?”

“No, just let me know if you have any more stiffness in your jaw. You said you've had no issues with the mandible since the surgery, correct?”

“Yeah,” he said, nudging his shoulder into Faith as she hopped up on the table next to him. She returned the gesture, jostling his upper arm. They poked at each other a couple more times until the doctor cleared her throat.

“I believe that was all, Garrus.”

“I was going to tell Garrus what was going on later, Karin, so I don't mind him hanging out for this if he doesn't,” Faith said, tilting her head up at him.

“Sure, might as well get up to speed,” he agreed.

“I would be happy to go over the treatment plan if Faith gives permission,” Doctor Chakwas said, and then turned a significant look on Shepard. “As long as you can handle it as maturely as she did.”

“I wasn't that bad,” Faith laughed, cheeks flushing pink.

“Sure, I can handle a little doctor talk,” he said, confused by Faith's embarrassment.

It was just about her allergies.

How bad could it be?

Thirty seconds in he realized just how stupid he'd been. This was definitely not a 'supporting a friend' conversation to sit in on, but Garrus had specifically told her he wanted to know about her treatment- he really couldn't complain. But damn it was a lot to take in.

At least he wasn't alone in being embarrassed- Faith was red.

Still, this was important.

“Through isolated dosing, we are identifying what constituent parts the Commander is reacting to. It will allow us to focus only on what requires exposure. It seems the culprit in her first near-deadly reaction were the enzymes present in turian saliva. The incredibly strong anti-microbial nature of the enzyme was what triggered her body to-”

“Over-react?” Faith suggested with a faint laugh.

“As it does,” Karin agreed, chuckling faintly. Her blasé attitude helped. “There are other, less severe reactions to the digestive elements in the saliva, but those will likely remain negligible- it's what has been giving you the oral sensitivity. As it is a known and recorded reaction by other humans to turian saliva, we have precedent to anticipate how you will be affected.”

“What about the- the tongue swelling? I know the throat closing was my body reacting to the enzyme, but when I go into shock my tongue never swells up,” Faith said, frowning.

“I suspect that is caused by elements of the seminal fluid, possibly the proteins. We'll have more information as we work through the isolates.”

And...now he wasn't looking at Faith any more, a sentiment he thought was probably mutual. It wasn't that he hadn't ever thought about- but when things were impossible, it was just easier to brush them aside and focus on reality. Except memories didn't care about 'easy', and they crashed into his mind whenever they damn well felt like it. Like right now.

For nearly two years her voice was the only one he'd heard saying his name.

Laughing, worried, angry-

Hot and breathy, naked body pressed up against his chest, and-

It was really not the time. What the hell was he thinking, letting his mind wander like that? Forcing himself to focus, he made it through the rest of the talk without any further distractions. It was hard. Not that he was- but listening to it all, and...damn it.

When Doctor Chakwas finished and left them in peace to go get her dinner, they sat side by side on the table in silence.

After about thirty seconds, Faith nudged his thigh with a knuckle. “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable. She's better at explaining than I would be.”

“Not uncomfortable, just-” he took a second, resting his hand palm-up on his thigh. She took it, small fingers lacing through his. “Nervous, I guess. Easier when it just sort of happens instead of having to ah- plan for it. I don't spend a lot of time thinking about cross-species intercourse.” Why the hell had he gone and phrased it like that? Keep it together, Vakarian. “Damn it, that really didn't help. Now I just feel...dirty and clinical.”

“Well, the argument that could be made that whole conversation was dirty and clinical,” she pointed out, and then laughed when he gave a long sigh. “I know you're not a turian-only sort of guy, so I guess I'm having trouble believing that. What are you so nervous about?”

“Asari don't count,” he dismissed, and smiled faintly at her laugh. “Even salarians make exceptions for asari. But other than than that, it's really only you.”

Faith blinked, tilting her head to the side to gaze up at him. “I kind of figured at least in the last two years, you'd-”

“I don't have a fetish for humans or anything, Faith,” he laughed, leaning into her nudge against his shoulder. “It's always just been you.”

It felt like a confession- maybe it was.

“I think I know what you mean,” she said. Her smile faded from the edges, and her eyes turned up to meet his. “You...sound like you're feeling better about this.”

He took a second to think about it, some of the humor fading away. Was he? It was hard to say just now, with all that new information. “I need to think a little. I'm working on it, but I need to process that whole...before, things just sort of happened. We were both just trying to-”

“Keep up?” she suggested.

“Something like that. And now that we're thinking about it, planning ahead, trying to actually work through what it all _means._ ” He stopped, but she was patient, hand squeezing his. “I just- are we crazy to even be thinking about this?”

Faith laughed. “Always have been. Always will be. I mean, damn Vakarian, look at where we are and how we ended up here.”

“Yeah. I think I'm going to go brood a bit, star,” he said, squeezing her hand and beginning to release it. “Call me in a bit so I don't miss the movie?”

When her hand refused to let go of his, he glanced down at her. She was staring up into his face, a soft smile at the corner of her mouth. She blinked, a flutter, and he was surprised to see her eyes go wet.

“Hey, what did I say?” he asked, suddenly worried.

Faith laughed, finally releasing his hand. “Nothing. Don't worry about it, Cowboy. I'll call you in a while, go on.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “As long as you're all right.”

“Questioning my orders? Watch yourself, Vakarian,” she said, lifting a hand and flicking it at him in dismissal. “I don't deal lightly with rogues and mutineers.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said, heading out without looking back.

By the time Garrus made it to the mess, dinner was long over.

He heated up his rations, mulling over what felt like an abrupt change in attitude. It was like the anger inside of him had been fuel for some sort of driving force, contained and compressed. Not even having Faith around had gotten rid of it. At least, not until she'd started talking, really talking to him.

And then the tank had sprung a leak, and he could feel all that anger- which he'd hoarded and used to drive himself- starting to drain away. Oh, there was still plenty of it for other targets, but it wasn't so raw now. So bitter.

Like flushing a wound he'd been letting fester.

It had started cracking when she'd been honest with him and asked him for a second chance. Or maybe even before, when she'd found out her dad had Emi, and he'd seen her fear and he'd realized it was still her, that she needed protecting, too. But it hadn't really broken through for real until earlier.

When she'd faced down his anger and asked him to be at her side as her friend, her partner.

What she hadn't done before.

He was tossing his tray onto the table when his omni-tool pinged him, and he brought up the call. Didn't even need to look at who it was- he knew.

“I'm eating.”

“Good, I don't like being a nag. It goes against my nature. I am the one who is nagged, not the one who nags,” Faith said quietly, voice slow and soft. Comforting. “Mess cabinet, lower, far left. Code's numerical, it's my birthday.”

“Testing me already?” he teased her, and then chuckled as she rattled it off for him without a comment. “I remember. Relax.”

“Well, I don't know if you knew the Earth numerical date. It's not something anyone would expect you to know.”

Rather than point out it had been both at her funeral and on every news report and obituary, he said simply, “I'm just that talented.”

No point bringing down the mood.

She gave a soft 'hmmh' in his ear, but fell silent afterward. Crouching down in front of the locked cabinet, he input her birthday. The lock clicked, and the cabinet slid open smoothly, revealing a collection of bottles.

“You're too good to me, Shepard.”

“Use your powers for good, not evil. Speaking of too good to you...”

He examined the bottles, eventually finding a pretty nice turian brandy among the human bottles. Of course she had. Smiling to himself, he rose to his feet, pulling a glass down from the top. The liquor cabinet slid itself closed.

“Hmm?” he finally asked as she failed to continue, uncorking the bottle.

“The old Volkov.”

“Ah, don't tease me about being sentimental over things, I watched you hug the Mako,” he said, pouring a decent glass of the brandy and re-corking the bottle, leaving it on the counter.

“No, I was thinking about buying you a new rifle but I didn't want to make it weird if you were determined to hang onto it,” she said with a faint laugh. “I saw some stuff when I was window-shopping on Omega that was intriguing. I mean, I just got a new gun.”

Scowling at the memory of the Collector gun, he settled down at the table. “I can't believe Mordin's going to let you use that thing.”

“He says it's safe. Either that or he just wants me to use it so he can see what happens,” Faith said, laughter in her soft voice.

“Knowing him...he might. Shepard, I appreciate the sentiment, but it's really not necessary.” He slung himself down into a chair, setting his glass next to the tray.

“Mmh,” she said simply.

Letting the conversation die off, listening to the faint sounds on the other side of the call, Garrus started eating his dinner. Every once in a while someone passed by with a greeting, the near inaudible noises of the Normandy otherwise breaking the silence. Minutes stretched by comfortably, nostalgically, as they just sat together doing things apart.

When Faith made an annoyed little noise in his ear, he smiled, setting down his glass.

“What?”

“I'm doing the worst possible thing imaginable,” Faith sighed in his ear. “Shopping. I need a dress for a party I'm going to with Kasumi.”

“A party?” Garrus asked dubiously. Didn't seem like the time for it.

“Well, we're going there to steal something, not to party,” Faith said, with a faint laugh. “I promised her. Don't worry, they're very bad people. Definitely not going to feel bad stealing from them, from the information she's sent me. Mmh, I don't like any of these dresses. Too much bare skin.”

That was a segue, at least, into something he hadn't been entirely sure how to bring up. Garrus took a quick glance to make sure no one was listening. “Noticed you seem to prefer covering up lately.”

Faith laughed, embarrassed. There was a long pause when it trailed off, and then she sighed. “I'm fucking covered in these cybernetic scars. Karin is trying to help, but they're still there and they really, really bug me. It makes me feel like...”

He took a sip of the brandy and waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. Encouraging, he murmured, “hmm?”

“Like it's not my body. I know, you said it's me, but I just...I get these weird urges to rip my skin off. That sounds gross, but- I have trouble feeling grounded in my body, I guess. It doesn't help that I'm so weak and out of shape now.”

Garrus tried not to laugh- she probably wouldn't appreciate it. “Faith, you're probably still in better condition than everyone else on this ship.”

“Mmh, don't let Miranda hear you say that. The genetic engineering the Alliance did to me is peanuts compared to what has been done to her.”

“Peanuts?”

“Nothing,” Faith said.

“Don't know why you can't tell me, but okay.”

Faith laughed. “No, no, no. Peanuts means 'nothing', or 'very little'.”

Garrus chuckled at the translator slip-up. Funny how something only two years away could feel so old. “Got you. Well, gengineering can only do so much, Trouble, and no one works harder than you,” he pointed out, and smiled at her faint 'hmm' of agreement. “As for the scars...well first-off, they just show how amazing it is you're still here. And second, unlike mine they're fading. Humans have that going for you, luckily.”

“Does it bother you? You seemed a little bothered earlier,” she asked quietly.

Staring at the edges of his faded reflection in the medi-bay window, he absently lifted a hand to his face, feeling the deep pitting. It had bothered him a lot at first, but he hadn't been thinking of it until the bandages had come off earlier. “That- ah, depends on you, if I'm going to be honest. Never been a vain guy, but I'm a mess. Can't help but feel self-conscious about it.”

“You've just been upgraded from handsome to ruggedly handsome, Cowboy. The only thing that bothers me about them is the reminder of how scary it was to almost lose you like that,” she said, and then gave a long sigh. “You're forbidden from getting yourself blown up any more, Vakarian. I mean it. I went to all that trouble to warn you not to do it, and you went and did it anyways!”

“I think we established earlier that am a rebel,” he said, smiling at the compliment even though it came with scolding.

“Pick a better rebellion, Garrus, or I'll rescind my promise to take you everywhere, wrap you in padding, and lock you in a box,” she threatened.

“There goes Shepard, breaking promises.” He'd meant to make it a joke, but it came out a little oddly. He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

Faith was silent, and he heard a soft clink of glass, liquid splashing. “I deserve it.”

“No, you don't. Besides, I know that wasn't exactly a fair thing to ask of you in the first place- I suppose it doesn't look good if you're always passing over other people to bring me,” he said. Picking up his tray, he headed to dump it, bringing the glass along for a refill.

“It doesn't matter. If it's what you need, it's what I'm giving you,” Faith said firmly. “I am absolutely okay with it, and if anyone else isn't? They can go to hell. If-”

After about ten seconds of silence, he leaned against the counter. “Hmm?”

“It's not important,” she dismissed quietly. “I just want you to know that I'm doing my best.”

“I do. We all set for tomorrow?”

“It's not my greatest plan, but it's a plan. Miranda's contacts are handling space-side customs, I've got Earth-side customs. Spectre status is good for something. Even if it's begrudging Spectre status,” she said, a little sourly. “New Council, same as the old Council...mostly. You know, I kind of miss Sparatus.”

“All right, now I'm not sure it's you any more, Shepard.”

“Hey, at least I always knew where I stood with him. Anyways...we'll get through this, get Em, head to Citadel, and hopefully my mom and David have ideas about where she should go,” Faith said.

Tipping a new drink into his glass, he returned the bottle to its cabinet. Didn't need to be bringing it with him, the last thing he needed heading down to Earth was a hangover. “Your mom?”

“Yeah! She's going to Citadel!” Faith said, but the excitement in her voice was short-lived. “She doesn't seem happy about the adoption or the kidnapping- but that's my mom. Hyper-focused on the sensible thing to do. I've never been sensible in my life.”

“For example, you and me,” he teased her, trying to get the morose tone out of her voice. It worked, and she laughed softly in that private way she had when they talked like this. “I suppose any parent would be confused to end up with a crazy pair of kids like us, Trouble.”

“Ain't that the truth. I swear she badgers Hackett into keeping an eye on me. He deserves it, though, he's the one that keeps recommending her for Admiral. Which she refuses, of course. Wouldn't want to leave her crew. You still eating?”

“Heading to the battery.”

“Down time, Vakarian! Down time!”

“This is my down time,” he said, laughing quietly at her sigh. “Multi-tasking is good for the mind, Faith.”

“Turian industry.”

“Human laziness, riding on the back of turian industry.”

“We call it efficiency, Garrus, not laziness,” she said, crackly voice warm and syrupy-slow. “I wouldn't have gotten you the big guns if I knew you'd neglect me for them. Hmmh. Maybe I should invite Admiral Hackett by Citadel, see if he'll stop by.”

Passing into the battery, Garrus set his glass down on the crate in the corner. There was an odd note to Faith's voice that he couldn't quite find the reason for. He recognized it, though.

“What are you plotting now, Trouble?”

“It's been a while since mom and the Admiral have seen each other, that's all,” she replied innocently.

“Are you trying to set up your mother with Admiral Hackett?” he asked, laughing a little. “Faith, you can't even handle your _own_ love life.”

“Hey!” she protested over his laughter, sounding annoyed. “Low blow, Vakarian! I'll have you know, I've known Steven since I was a wee anklebiter, and he's always cared about mom. She's just...stubborn, I guess. Always said 'two soldiers can't make a relationship'. I just...”

He waited through the pause, leaning against the wall to listen to her. Finally she sighed, soft and heavy in his ear. There was a faint rustle of cloth, and when he closed his eyes he could almost see her there, lying on her side in bed.

“Mom's so reserved that I've always felt like I have to defend her, I guess. Have the feelings she keeps to herself. And I died, Garrus. I left her all alone. I know she has her crew, and her friends, but I just wish she gave herself more chances to be happy after that man screwed with her and screwed things up. When I was little I always wanted to be like her, all career focused and nothing else, but having tried it? It's kind of lonely...”

“I think you have good intentions,” he said carefully.

“Mmmh, diplomacy. Code for...hold on, don't tell me. 'Faith, you're an idiot who is going to piss everyone off'. Did I get close?”

“The Hierarchy Code of Judicial Law states that an individual accused of a crime may refuse to give testimony.”

“I'm sorry, did you just plead the fifth at me?!” she asked, voice high and offended.

“I have no idea what that means, sorry. So obviously I can't respond to the accusation.”

“Ass,” Faith accused spitefully.

“Now that I did understand,” he said.

They both laughed.

When it died out, he heard her sigh, and for the first time in a while it sounded relaxed. Her relaxation helped him, clearing away the last of the lingering anger from their fight that morning. Despite everything waiting for them, and how much he hated her father...right now he felt better than he had in a very, very long time.

Since he'd lost her.

“Movie?”

“Mhmm,” she agreed softly.

They settled in for a quiet evening, and by the end of it he felt reassured that whatever was coming tomorrow, they could handle it.

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Have some attempts at emotional processing.
> 
> Would anyone be interested in an ME:A fic as well? Except I've made my Ryder Terrible, because I find that far more interesting.


	21. Chapter 21

The planet below turned, clouds swirling over the vibrantly green landmass, sun cutting a golden slash across it as they left the day side for night.

Shepard watched it, hand resting on Joker's chair as she listened quietly to him confirming their approach with the authorities. It seemed Miranda had been good as her word. There was no argument from planetside, just a very bored confirmation. Hopefully the spaceport would be as bureaucratically disinterested.

“Sometimes I forget how pretty Earth is.”

“The motherland,” Joker said mockingly, and then cracked a yawn.

“Sorry for fucking up your sleep schedule,” Shepard chuckled, giving his shoulder a brief pat. “I appreciate you doing this.”

“Hey, if you can pick me up a candy bar, all's forgiven,” Joker said,

A mellow night had helped prepare her for this, and not even the nightmares had destroyed her calm. Yes, it was going to be tense, and yes she probably was going to freak out and be terrified and angry, but right now she felt like she could handle it. Garrus was going to be with her.

“Yeah. Just nothing with peanuts, sorry.”

“No problem,” he reassured her. “Wouldn't want you to die for a snickers. I know you prefer your deaths to be more dramatic.”

“Yeah, and if you die too close together, you don't get as much attention. Gotta milk it properly.”

“Oh, definitely. Give it at least another year. Next time you die, though, make sure it's really splashy and public. Maybe beheading. Something gory.”

“But if I just disappear and no one really knows if I'm dead or not, you get way more cool conspiracy theories,” she pointed out, and then chuckled tiredly at his musing 'hmm'. “It's gonna be weird going down to Earth. Been ages. Better get to it, though.”

She gave his chair a light cuff and turned to head off, shoving her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt. Uncomfortable going without armor, but there wasn't much choice. This was a municipal spaceport, not a fucking military base. She needed to pull as few strings as possible. Make the least amount of waves.

“Don't let any hillbillies kidnap Garrus!”

“The fuck would they do with a turian?” she called back.

“I dunno. Eat him?”

Grimacing, Faith headed for the elevator, really displeased to have that mental image in her head. Gross. It wasn't an unfair warning- not the hillbilly part- but the part where having a turian along might make things weird. She did feel bad they had to go unarmed, but she felt confident they could both defend themselves without guns.

Unless the other people had guns.

It wasn't worth thinking about. They'd get in, get out, stop at a gas station for Joker's candy bar, and get back on the damn ship. It was odd, though. She felt a little bad that this was how she got to introduce her home to Garrus. Sure, it wasn't her home- she'd been raised on ships, and even when she was on Earth it was either for competitions or staying with granddad, but...

It was still Home, in some blood and bone sort of sense.

Even with more tourism to Earth, it wasn't common to see aliens anywhere that wasn't Tokyo, Dubai, or New York City. And Concord was pretty far from any of those- spiritually if not physically.

Worrying about him helped her not worry about the kiddo, or herself.

They were waiting for her at the shuttle, Jack standing with her feet inside, hanging out of the doorway. “There you fucking are!”

“Am I holding you up?” Shepard asked, amused.

“I just want to get going.”

“I thought it wasn't fun unless you got to kill someone,” Shepard said, giving the trio a once-over. She...wasn't sure what she expected. Kasumi and Jack were wearing what they always wore, and Garrus was wearing his under-armor.

“I guess there could be more than one kind of fun,” Jack said, and then laughed when Shepard sighed and pinched her nose. “What's your fucking problem now?”

“I said civvies, you guys. Civvies!” Shepard gestured to herself, in her sweatshirt and loose pants.

“This is my only outfit,” Jack said.

“Turians don't really do casual wear, Shepard,” Garrus said with a chuckle.

“I think I look fine,” Kasumi added, glancing over herself.

“Is it too late to get Jacob?” Faith asked plaintively, but let herself be herded into the shuttle by Jack and Kasumi.

“He'll just ruin our fun,” Jack dismissed, slinging down into a seat.

“Hi, Crewman Patel. Thanks for the lift,” Shepard said as she slung into the shuttle herself, leaving a space for Garrus next to her.

The pilot glanced over, a smile on her face as she nodded. “No problem, ma'am.”

“You're to hold the shuttle until Jack and Kasumi return with our person of interest, and then take the three of them back to the Normandy. I'll signal you when I want you to drop a second time to pick Vakarian and I up,” Shepard instructed, and then flashed a quick smile. “Shouldn't be more than two hours. I only have one side stop to make.”

“Side stop?” Garrus asked, settling down next to her. She gave him a brief, narrow once-over, and he chuckled. “I'm not armed.”

“Just making sure. Joker wants a candy bar. I'll stop at a gas station, it'll be three minutes, tops.”

“I want chips. Get me some chips- barbecue. And gummy bears,” Jack ordered.

Kasumi gave a faint 'hmm'. “It would be nice to have a ginger ale. It's been a long time.”

“Oh my god,” Shepard groaned.

Conversation was stalled for a minute as the shuttle took off. They dropped into the atmosphere, gliding in at an angle, but that didn't mean it wasn't still a little jostling. She was long-since used to it.

It wasn't that she wanted to deny anyone the chance to get snacks, but-

How often would they be on Earth?

Ugh, fine.

“Sure, sure, whatever,” she muttered as some of the roughness evened out.

“Ah-” Hesitantly it came from the front of the shuttle, a tinge of red in the side of Patel's cheek that she could say.

“Just go ahead,” Shepard said with tired amusement.

“Those chocolate cupcakes with the cream inside and the white swirl on top?” Patel asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Shepard sighed. “Kidnapping and snack run. Since - Vakarian?”

“Dextro, Shepard,” he chuckled in response.

“You're my favorite.”

“If you start making out I'm jumping out of this shuttle,” Jack said flatly.

“Don't be bitter 'cause you're not my type, Jack,” Shepard snarked, because it was the only defense against that didn't sound like 'protesting too much'.

“Please, you fucking wish.”

“Customs going to be a problem with this?” Garrus asked.

“I've got customs covered, don't worry,” Shepard assured with a hint of a smile. “This is municipal, it's really not a problem. Something I learned in the military- the less time you act like you have, the less questions people ask.”

The shuttle landed with a gentle bump, jostling them all lightly.

“If anyone tries to talk to you while we're gone, Patel, use your best judgment. Nothing about what we're doing, who I am, or who we're flying for- understand?”

The door slid open with a burst of nighttime air, cuttingly cold and crisp. Damn it, autumn. She'd totally forgotten to even check the weather. Or time of year.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I'm gonna freeze my tits off,” Jack muttered, slinging herself out.

“Is Earth always this cold?” Garrus asked, turning to face her as she slung out after him.

Seriously?

“It can't be colder than four degrees or so,” Shepard said dubiously, despite the fact that she was pretty cold herself. It was the principle of the thing. “Maybe freezing, but not any colder. It's really not that bad.”

“I'm from Palaven, and you wouldn't let me wear my armor,” Garrus reminded her.

“There'll be a heater in the car, you big baby.”

Overhead, the sky was tinged orange by light pollution, though it faded quickly- Concord wasn't that big of a city, and they were at the edge. The tarmac was barely lit, a few floodlights pooling on the cracked black asphalt. The whole place was surrounded by a chainlink fence, a couple small shuttles parked. The Normandy's shuttle dwarfed them.

It was nostalgically rinky-dink.

The building leading to the parking lot had a sign soaring over it, dingily welcoming them to Earth. The lights inside were on, spilling over them as they approached. Shepard glanced over her shoulder at the other three. “Just let me talk.”

As soon as the doors slid open they were practically pounced on, a young man with a patchy beard waiting inside. The excitement on his face turned to shock, and he took a step back, nearly tripping over himself. He wasn't looking at Shepard, he was looking past her. At Garrus.

She glanced at him, but kept walking. The space wasn't large, a few plastic benches facing a blaring television bolted to the wall, an office by the opposite exit they were heading for. Wall of lockers. It took about five steps before the guy seemed to remember himself.

“I uh- m'am, ma'am. I need- there's paperwork, ma'am.”

Pausing, Shepard pivoted on her toes to stare at him, and then down at the datapad held in both of his hands. She glanced up again. “You can take care of that for me, can't you? I'd appreciate it, I'm in a hurry...” She trailed off significantly, glancing over him. Coveralls, but no nametag. “Sorry, what's your name?”

“Mike, Mike Hodges, ma'am. I need you to do the paperwork. And declarations. And then I have to do the security check. D-do you have anything to declare, ma'am?” He was still staring at Garrus.

“Mike. I'm a Citadel Spectre,” Shepard replied with a smile. When he failed to look at her, she gave a small snap of her fingers, drawing his eyes. She kept her voice easy and friendly. “Mike, I'm over here. Citadel Spectre. I need this trip to be quick and discreet, it's of galactic importance. So can you handle the paperwork for me?”

“I'm not supposed-” His face went pale. “Commander Shepard?!”

Oh, great.

“Top secret mission, Mike, no one needs to know I was here. This is between you and me, it's important,” she said, lowering her voice confidingly. “I'm counting on you, this mission is of vital importance.”

“I'm not supposed to-” He glanced down at the datapad again, and then up at her. His expression firmed up, less than impressive chin lifting. “Yes, ma'am. Commander Shepard. I'll take care of it.”

“You're a good man, Hodges,” she said with a nod, clapping his shoulder. “Thanks.”

Carin had said she'd stowed the keys in locker five. She'd been given the code over a message, and tapping it into the numerical pad opened the locker. Probably would have been just as fast to hack the thing. Two sets of car keys with rental tags were sitting in the bottom of the locker, and she swiped them up, turning them over. A basic four-door and something fast, just like she'd requested.

“Uh, one of you knows how to drive, right?”

“No time like the present to learn,” Jack said.

Kasumi held out her hand, lips quirking up into an amused smile. “I can drive, Shepard.”

“Oh come on,” Jack complained, making a swipe for the keys when Shepard handed to Kasumi.

“Don't complain, you're not being subjected to Shepard's driving like I am,” Garrus said.

They trooped out into the parking lot, feeling Mike's stare following them the entire way. That had gone better than she'd feared. Hopefully he didn't call the news or anything while they were gone. Best case scenario, she'd have to grimace through some selfies on the way back.

The parking lot wasn't huge, two rental cars and what must have been Mike's beater ground car taking up maybe a third of it. The four-door was black with tinted windows, about as nondescript as you could get, but the other one? Bright red and shiny.

Hell yeah.

“Tell me that's ours.”

“You know it's not,” Shepard said to Jack, amused. “It's a two-seater.”

“So this is how I die,” Garrus deadpanned.

“Hush, you. Okay, you two. Stay in contact, head straight for the rendezvous point.”

“Understood,” Kasumi said, unlocking the door and heading for it.

With a certain amount of grumbling, Jack followed. Shepard watched them until the car pulled out of the parking lot, swinging the keys around her finger with a jingle. Shit. She was starting to feel her nerves.

“You sure I'm going to fit in that thing?”

“Yeah, I told her to make sure it had enough leg room. You're not _that_ much taller than most humans,” Shepard said, finally stalling her fidgeting and unlocking the car. “Heck, you're practically short for a turian.”

“Excuse me? _Average_ height, thank you,” he replied, heading for the car.

She followed more sedately, amused. “Well, you're all tall to me, Cowboy. I'm short for a human.”

“Going to start calling _you_ Mini, and not Em.”

Surprised, she smiled softly to herself. The car door slammed, and she followed suit, pulling open the driver's side and sliding in. Amused, she glanced over and watched Garrus trying to adjust the seat. “Down the side by the door there should be a panel,” she instructed, closing her door securely.

“Thanks,” he grumbled, fidgeting with it until his knees weren't crammed against the dashboard.

“So you call Emi Mini?” she asked, tapping the key to start the car, turning her attention to the heater before he could complain.

“I- yeah.”

“That's really cute,” she said with a smile, bringing up her omni-tool. As the car quietly asked for their destination, she over-rode the automation, ignoring the warning that it would make her liable for all damages. Blah blah blah, red tape. No way in hell she was letting this car drive itself.

It was the principle of the thing.

“It ah- she wanted me to call her Shepard, but it was...hard,” Garrus said quietly. “So it was Mini-Shepard, and then just Mini.”

“I saw on the paperwork that she changed her last name,” Shepard said. Shit, that was sobering to think about. “I'm not sure how I feel about it.”

“Give it time. She's had two years to adjust, you deserve a little time, too,” Garrus said, and then grunted. “I think I've got it. I _barely_ fit in this thing.”

“Insert sex joke,” Shepard said absently, because it was the principle of the thing. “On second thought, should probably hit the gas station first, since we need to give them some time for the op. At least this thing has a trunk. Sorry about how that guy was staring at you.”

Calling up directions to the nearest gas station on the GPS, she backed out of the parking lot slowly. It'd been a while since she'd driven anything but a Mako or air car. Not that she'd forgotten, but it was good to go slow until she'd fallen back into the groove.

“I'm prepared. You and Joker both warned me that people around here have probably never seen a turian. It'd be the same on Palaven for you guys.”

“Yeah?” Shepard asked, surprised. And then she was embarrassed she was surprised. “Right. Because they don't wanna be irradiated.”

“Which is a shame, because Palaven is a really beautiful place.”

“Yeah?”

Fighting the urge to open the window so she could hang her arm out of it, Shepard paused at a stop sign- archaic thing. Looked almost straight out of the old vids. The turn signal turned itself on for her, and she gave a faint 'hmph'. Too much damn automation.

“Remember Virmire?”

Shepard snorted. “How could I forget it?”

“I meant the planet itself, not- ah, it reminded me a lot of Palaven.” His voice was slightly apologetic.

“It was pretty,” she acknowledged, and they both fell into silence.

She hadn't thought about Kaidan in a long time- considering she'd died that shouldn't make her feel guilty, but...it did.

The quiet was broken only by the GPS as she navigated her way to the gas station. Luckily it was out of the city and not further in- being around as few people as possible would ensure things went smoothly. When Garrus' omni-tool beeped, she glanced sidelong briefly.

“Update from Kasumi. Ten minutes out from rendezvous.”

“Thanks. So if we get in and out of here in ten, that should put us right about where I want us to be. I want them to have time to get off planet before we knock,” Shepard explained.

“Understood.”

Just outside the city, the gas station was poised at the edge, waiting for people heading in and out. The red and blue lights of the massive sign slid over them as she pulled in. A tap of the key turned off the car, and she glanced away from the flickering advertisements playing on the windows of the gas station to Garrus.

“You coming?”

“You sure?” he countered.

“If people are staring at you, they're not staring at me,” she explained apologetically. “I'd really rather not get dragged into taking pictures and shit and getting plastered all over the extranet.”

“Good point,” he said, reaching for the door.

“The things I do for Joker,” she sighed, sliding out of the car. Tucking the keys into the pocket of her sweatshirt, she locked up after both doors were slammed closed, heading for the front door. As she approached, a figure she hadn't noticed leaning against the wall in a shadow moved to intercept.

Blinking, she stalled and glanced up at him. A kid. Maybe seventeen or eighteen, if she had to guess.

“Hey. Lady. Can you help me out?” he asked, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Uh...I only use credits, but I can buy you something to eat,” she said dubiously.

“No, no. See, I forgot my omni-tool at home, so I don't have my ID, so the fucking store won't sell me any beer. I'm supposed to be bringing for a party, and- ya know. Can you help me out? I've got the cash.”

Confusion was instantly overtaken by amusement, especially when the kid looked past her and gave a quiet 'holy shit', staggering back a step. Dumbass kid.

“Yeah, right. I've _been_ you, don't try a line on me,” Shepard said, chuckling. “How old are you, actually?”

“Shit, man, are you a _real_ turian?” the kid asked.

“That's what they tell me,” Garrus said with a chuckle.

“Kid. How old are you actually?”

“Uh,” he glanced between them, and finally said. “Eighteen.”

Who knew if it was the truth or not.

“Eighteen's not legal to drink?” Garrus asked, glancing at her.

“It was where I grew up,” Shepard said with a shrug, and glanced back at the kid. “Which was space, so...sorry, kid. I don't have time to spare dealing with the police. Good luck.”

She stepped past him, shaking her head and not bothering to hide the smile on her face. Some things never fucking changed. Sneaking out of Pinnacle to beg people to buy them booze at the liquor store had been a time-honored tradition. Kids would be kids.

Shaking her head, she pushed her way into the gas station. Thank crap- it was an automated one. No reason to run into any more people. This time of night it was empty, the doors sliding closed behind them with a quiet beep.

Grabbing a bag, she sighed and headed for the nearest shelf of snacks. “I suppose we should just load up. Don't want any hurt feelings. Besides, a load of garbage food is good for morale. Don't worry, I'll buy you something nice when we get to Citadel.”

“You don't have to,” Garrus chuckled.

“What's the drinking age on Palaven?” she asked, grabbing the most garish-looking package and working her way down. Her omni-tool beeped softly with every item that was taken, a running tally of her purchases.

“Outside of a private residence? Fifteen. But public intoxication gets a pretty hefty fine, and any crimes you commit under the influence get much harsher penalties.”

“See, that's turians being sensible for once. If you can fight, you can drink,” Faith said, a little exasperated.

“For once?”

She just grinned, shaking her head.

There was a lot more stuff than she'd expected- it wasn't like she'd ever been able to gorge on junk food before in her life, so she had no frame of reference. The bag filled quick. And then Garrus got to play pack mule while she filled up more, because she'd heard about gummy worms, and jelly beans, and all the things she'd never been able to eat before.

Garrus was good about it, but when she slung the fourth bag over his forearm and went back for another one, he gave a long-suffering sigh. “Really?”

“My brain short-circuits in stores, this is why I don't shop,” Faith said, going down the line of assorted baked goods, grabbing a couple of each. “Ooh, tiny donuts. I either need a list of like...two things, or just take it all. I can't function otherwise. Plus, clothes shopping bores me to tears. It's literally the worst thing- and then you have to try them on? And people keep asking if you need help? Fuck that!”

“How much garbage food does one species need?”

“Apparently a lot, Garrus. Duh,” Shepard said, bag bulging by the time she finished the baked goods.

All that was left were drinks, which required another two bags. She took pity on him and carried those herself, though. Again- no frame of reference, so she just grabbed one of everything, or two of things she recognized as being popular. Staring at a bottle of soda after she pulled it out, she turned it over.

“I don't think he actually has a doctorate,” she murmured, and then shrugged and shoved it in the bag. “Okay, that's everything, I just have to check out.” She shifted both bags onto one arm and fiddled with her omni-tool. Yeah, she didn't spend a lot of money but- “Holy shit, three hundred and fifty credits?! What's the fucking exchange rate? Jesus!”

“You have no one but yourself to blame.”

The door beeped when she paid, signifying that they were allowed to leave.

Glancing around to make sure she had everything, she caught sight of a rack of touristy things by the exit. Hadn't noticed it on the way in. Brightening, she jogged over and spun the rack, looking it over.

“Do you want a magnet?”

“No,” Garrus said, amused.

“Decorative thimble? Shot glass?”

“No, I don't even know what that is, and no.”

“Then I'm getting you a keychain,” Faith decided, picking through them. “This one is a bottle opener!”

Garrus sighed.

By the time she picked out their keychains and paid again, it was getting close to go time. She was aware that she was being 'very Shepard', as Garrus had put it before, but she was nervous. More than nervous. Scared.

He was here, and he helped, but she was still feeling as jittery as if she'd drank a pot of coffee.

The call came when they were loading the bags into the car.

Faith felt her chest freeze, eyes fixed on Garrus' omni-tool. He answered the call, glancing around before making it audible. The booze-hunting kid was long gone, probably given up or trying his luck somewhere else.

The voice that came in from the omni-tool was familiar, a near-whisper. “Umh...hello?”

“Hi, Mini,” Garrus greeted quietly, and then glanced at her.

Faith put her last bag in the trunk, closing it quietly and approaching him.

“Garrus! What's going on, who are these people? Why did they say mom sent them...”

The 'mom' was so strange to hear, but it tugged at her a little, too. The annoying, stubborn, funny little kid she'd somehow ended up stuck together with. The kid that had decided they belonged together, even though Faith was a fucking mess...

“Hi, kiddo. It's me, I'm here.”

“Mom!”

“I know, I know. It's a lot to take in, but we don't have time right now. This is a mission, soldier,” Faith said, reflexively leaning into Garrus as his arm wrapped around her. Stabilizing. Safe. “Your mission is to pack your clothes and get out of there with Jack and Kasumi, do you understand? Anything that can be left behind should be. We can worry about replacing things later. You're going to the Normandy. I've got you. It's really me.”

Part of her wanted to ask if he'd hurt her, if she was safe- but getting her _out_ was the priority. Everything else could wait.

“Is it really you? How come you're not here?” Emi asked.

“Because once you're safe, I'm gonna make sure he _never_ bothers us again,” Faith said.

When Emi spoke, it broke her fucking heart. Part of her had been hoping they'd treated her well, that maybe even Emi wouldn't want to go...because it'd mean she'd been safe, but-

“Do you promise?”

“I promise,” Faith said, voice cracking over the two words. “I promise you, Emi.”

“Okay. I'll pack my bag, mom.”

“I'll see you on the Normandy.”

“We both will,” Garrus assured. “Mini, get to it.”

She was glad he finished the call for her, because she couldn't.

When he turned off his omni-tool, Garrus immediately pulled her in against him so she could hide herself and cry.

Just for a minute.

Faith drove in silence, staring out of the window, hands tight on the wheel.

Garrus was doing his best to stay calm and in control, because that was what she needed, but he knew the instant Emi had confirmed that at least some of their fears were true that it was going to be rough. He could hold his temper for her, though. Probably going to need to take Grunt to the mats when they hit the Normandy, though. Do _something_ to get some of this rage out of his system.

Watching the speedometer steadily creep up out of the corner of his vision, he kept his peace. It was a straight, flat road, and at least this thing was more stable than the Mako had been. He felt a little bad. Garrus knew how much she enjoyed driving, but this was definitely not an enjoyable trip.

“What's it like where you stayed on Earth as a kid?”

Her eyes flickered towards him briefly, and then back at the road. It was a dark stretch, only their headlights showing the way. The road seemed to be edged in tall trees, leaving only a strip of night sky above- the stars were visible now. Faith cleared her throat quietly.

“Warmer. Big, crowded city. Full of music, and people, and old old buildings. And food. Granddad always said it was such a shame I had all the allergies, because New Orleans has the best food on Earth,” she said, the hint of a sad smile at the corner of her mouth. “Granddad had a little apartment over a cafe- it was crowded even for the two of us, but I loved it and he didn't like big spaces. I used to sit at the window or on the balcony and watch people coming and going...”

“It sounds nice,” he said quietly.

“It was so different than being on a ship. There was a magnolia tree across the street in a little park area. They can take a long time to bloom. This one had taken the longest they'd ever seen. Twenty one years, not a single flower. The year granddad died, the last time I stayed in that little apartment, it finally bloomed. I remember the way it smelled on the breeze when the windows were open.” Her voice trailed off, and her face went pensive again.

“There's a plant like that on Palaven. Not a tree, but...a plant that takes twelve years to grow and flower, and then it dies. It was my mother's favorite. When I was a kid, I didn't get it. Why bother planting something that takes forever and then just dies?” He smiled faintly at the memory, shaking his head. “It flowered the year Solana was born, and mom named her after it. I used to tell her that it meant she was going to die on her twelfth birthday.”

“Garrus Vakarian!” Faith laughed, shocked and horrified.

“I was a little bastard,” he admitted, smiling as she laughed and shook her head. It was good to hear.

“Were?” she replied, smile fading away. “You've never really told me about your family before. At least not much.”

“I've spent a while feeling like a disappointment. It can be hard to talk about,” Garrus admitted, and then gave a long, tired sigh. It was easy to talk to her. “I called my father.”

“You did? When?”

“When...when you left the base with Riva and Las. Before you came back. I thought maybe you wouldn't be able to make it in time, so I called him. He said I should go to Palaven and we could figure things out. I didn't think he'd be willing to listen to me, let alone forgive me. We got into it pretty bad before I left Citadel.”

“When this is over you should go see him. Both of them.”

“I think I will,” Garrus agreed. “You want to see Palaven? You'll need a radiation suit, but- I promise it's worth it.”

“Sure, sounds like a-” Faith cut off, and gave an awkward laugh. “I'm not used to thinking about anyone but myself. I guess I have to figure out how to not do that any more, huh?”

It took him a second, but he figured out what she meant. “They make small radiation suits, too, Shepard.”

“Mmh.”

It really was crazy to think about. Like he'd said before, he and Emi had two years to get to the idea, but Faith...she'd come back from the dead to find out she had a kid she'd in no way expected. He knew how against the idea she'd been.

But here she was, stepping up- he wasn't sure he'd even heard her say that she wasn't able to handle it.

Could he have done it?

“You're pretty incredible.”

“I mean, obviously yes- but what do you mean?”

“Stepping up for Emi like this. It's just pretty incredible, and I don't think anyone told you that yet. But they should.”

Faith smiled, a little sadly. “I know what it's like to be a lonely kid who doesn't trust anyone, Garrus. She decided I'm the person she trusts. How could I possibly even consider damaging that?”

“It doesn't mean you're not incredible, star.”

She gave a faint 'hmm', smile softening, and then fading away. “I wonder if you know you're doing that. That's twice now.”

“Doing...” The realization washed over him before he'd finished the sentence, and he sighed and lifted a hand to his forehead, mandibles dropping. Damn it. He'd stopped himself from calling her star before, but apparently not well enough. “Sorry.”

Awkwardly he turned his attention to the window.

The road they'd been driving along now held buildings on either side. A few at first, and then clusters of them, designed in the way of human homes he'd seen in vids. Very inefficient design, but nice enough. Pointy.

“I don't mind, but it is a little odd considering how things are between us right now,” she said, mildly.

Not much to say to that but- “Yeah.”

“We're almost there,” Faith said, giving a long sigh. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“No prob-” He cut off as his omni-tool rang. “Good news, I hope.”

Answering it, he set it to audible. “Jack.”

“I finally got to sneak out of the window of a house in the middle of the night, just like in the fuckin' vids. We're back onboard. Slick as shit, that was fun. I want one of those cloak things now. The trouble I could get into...”

“We'll talk,” Shepard said, shoulders slumping. “I'm glad you got back safe. Emi?”

“Talking a mile a minute at your pilot, he's taking her up to the bridge. Keeps asking when you're getting here, though. Shepard, that room they had her in-”

“What?” she asked, tensing again.

“Fucking grim, that's all. No kid stuff. Just a bed and a desk and four white walls. No kid should grow up like that.” There was an odd note to Jack's voice.

Faith's voice went hard. “I'll make sure she doesn't.”

“You better. Hurry up, I want my gummy bears.”

The call ended.

“I need to be angry right now. Angry is good. Not afraid,” Faith said quietly.

The GPS directed them quietly, and she turned a corner onto a narrower street. The houses here looked much newer, and more uniform than the other ones they'd passed, all in the same shade of beige. There were minor differences, but other than that they were identical.

“God these things are fucking ugly,” Faith said, glancing across them. “And probably expensive as hell. What did the sign back there say?”

“Faith, I'm turian,” he reminded her mildly.

“Why haven't you learned to read English yet for me? You've had two whole years!”

“You're right, I've been slacking,” he agreed. “As soon as you learn to read turian...”

“No way,” she denied, glancing at him briefly, a flicker.

“No way what?”

“You're telling me the _language_ is called turian? Oh my god.”

“It's the turian language! We have dialects, but the language was codified into a singular one centuries ago.”

“Destroying your own culture to make it more efficient is the most turian...”

She trailed off into silence as the GPS announced that they had arrived at their destination. The banter died, as did any humor in the air. A silent, foreboding tension replaced it as they stared at the house centered at the end of a cul-de-sac. The car came to a stop at the bottom of the driveway, passenger door facing it. He heard her swallow, heavily.

“Faith...”

“I'm okay, sweetheart,” she assured, voice taking on a cool, crisp tone he'd heard before. Usually when she was under a lot of pressure. “I've got this.”

The endearment was a surprise, and an oddly old-fashioned one at that, but he wasn't about to say anything.

“And I've got your back.”

The car engine turned off as she tapped the key, and they got out in tandem.

His legs were slightly cramped, but it hadn't been that long of a drive.

The house was dark, but the street lights were brilliantly white, shining down on them. When they hit the driveway, side by side, a light on the front of the house flicked on. He saw her stop, stalling nervously.

“Motion sensor,” he told her, and saw her relax.

“Right,” she sighed, and then lifted her chin and marched forward.

The night was quiet, no nocturnal animals or insects making any noise. The air was so cold he could smell the freeze in the air- no matter what Faith had said. The neatly manicured ground cover in front of the house was lush and green, but with a haze of crystalline frost over it that made it glitter like stars as they approached.

It was all very neat and tidy.

“They're not fucking poor,” he heard Faith mutter. “And even if they were, I _know_ my survivor benefits were enough to take care of her.”

“Bastards,” he said simply.

She echoed it, and then lifted a hand toward him as she made for the front door. “Behind me and a bit to the side. I want to make sure they can see you. And...I'm sorry about using you like this, it feels kind of yucky.”

That hadn't even crossed his mind. “It's logical to me. Though if they ask me if I'm a 'real' turian, too, I might get annoyed.”

She gave a small breath through her nose that might have been a laugh, and then stepped in and pushed a button that sent a chime through the house they both could hear. And then rang it again. And again.

Garrus stood in silence and watched her.

After the fourth time pushing the button, she stepped back and crossed her arms, shoulders squaring. Somewhere far off in the distance he heard a vehicle drone. It reminded him of calls Emi would make to him, the background noises of Earth.

It took a good five, frigid minutes for the front door to open.

Two years hadn't changed much about the man standing in the door- he looked about the same as Garrus remembered. Pale hair somewhere between gold and silver, lines on his face but not so deeply as some elderly humans. Dark eyes that somehow managed to turn cold as he took them both in, shock fading away.

Whatever weariness there was in his posture faded as he straightened up.

“You must have felt really clever, Marcus,” Faith said quietly.

“Faith. It seems the rumors are true. What-”

“I didn't ask you to talk,” she replied icily. “I'm talking. You're going to listen, because the alternative is _very_ bad for you. Emi's gone from Earth. You will not look for her. You will not contact her. And, since apparently I have to make the specification, you will not talk _about_ her. I'm not going to ask about the money you stole. Or the lies you spread all these years.”

“I have legal custody of the child,” Marcus replied, but Garrus could see the uneasiness in his posture, hear it in his voice. It was strange to hear him speak. He sounded so...ordinary.

“Earth laws mean nothing to me. I am her legal parent, I am alive. If you go to the authorities...so. Will. I.” Faith said, and continued, louder, when he started to speak again. “If you call the police. So will I. If you take me to court. So will I. If you go to the _media_ , MARCUS, so. Fucking. Will. I!”

“I don't know what you're implying, but-”

Faith's voice was a growl, and rising. “Do not _test_ me, Marcus! You may think I never fought back because I don't know how, but I assure you, that's not true at all. I can destroy you so thoroughly that people would be afraid to _speak_ your name. I am Commander goddamn Shepard, and you are _no one_.”

“I can see you're still a thug,” he replied, gaze flicking to Garrus again. Still uneasy.

Garrus kept his silence, because Faith didn't need him to talk for her. She was doing a damn good job herself. No...amazing.

“I don't really think someone who abuses little girls gets to call anyone a thug,” Faith replied, voice so tense it was almost trembling.

“How dare-”

“Fucking shut up now. I don't give a shit if you're lying, or if your narcissism has made you so delusional that you rewrite your own reality, but whatever it is, I have no interest in hearing your bullshit. I know the truth. _Emi_ knows the truth.”

The uneasiness on Marcus' got worse, and so did Garrus' anger. The bastard. There was only one reason he'd be afraid to hear that. Still, it seemed he didn't know when to shut up. “Lack of discipline-”

_Discipline?_

“I'm going to kill him,” Garrus said, breaking his silence. He couldn't have helped himself if he tried.

Marcus took a step back, eyes widening again.

“We're not going to kill him,” Faith denied him quietly, voice calm again. “We're going to leave, and never speak about him again. Just like he's never going to speak about us again. Right, Marcus?”

“It seems you've left me little choice. And what about the school? The child welfare services, the neighborhood, the family? What am I supposed to say? Nothing?” The scorn in his voice was icy.

“Tell them she's with her mother,” Faith replied, and turned on a heel.

She strode past Garrus, touching his arm lightly in a beckon. As much as he wanted to bridge the distance and plant a fist in the bastard's face- he didn't. He followed her, because this was her fight. How she'd resisted doing so herself, he had no idea.

“You're going to ruin that little girl's life, just like your mother ruined yours. She's already a little bitch like you were, and now you're going to make her a brainless thug just like you. Just like your mother.”

Garrus whipped around, feeling the clutch of her hand on his arm, but pulling against it. The front door swung shut, closing them out. He tried to take a step, but she stalled him, other hand reaching for his jaw, turning him towards her. Their eyes met, and Faith smiled, softly.

“Let him have the last word.” There was a pause, and she smiled, eyes tearing up. “Huh. I finally get it. Mom was right after all.”

“Get what?” he asked, reaching up for her hand as she stroked her fingers down his mandible. He didn't want to be soothed, but it wasn't about him. Damn it, it wasn't about him.

“The last word. It's all he has." She paused, and smiled at him, soft but confident. "We have her. Let's go home, Garrus.”

Sighing, he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, and this time she moved to meet it. The affectionate contact was short, but grounding, and he nodded against her. “Okay. I'm proud of you, star.”

“I'm proud of me, too,” she said, taking his hand and tugging him after her.

They retreated back to the car, hand in hand.

And then they went home.


	22. Chapter 22

When Garrus came out of the shuttle laden with bags, Faith almost laughed in his face.

It was just the most long-suffering, ridiculous look. Funnier because he'd picked up all the bags himself like she couldn't carry some of them. And then? This audacity?

“Give me some of that, you ass,” she demanded, huffing when he just walked past her. “Garrus!”

“Go see the kid,” he replied. His voice took on a teasing note. “Besides, wouldn't want to make a celebrity carry her own things.”

Faith blew her cheeks out. “It was one selfie. One. The guy forged paperwork for me, what was I gonna do, say no? I'm sorry I'm kind of a big deal, Garrus.”

“The Hero of the Citadel, oh and also Garrus was there.”

Laughing, she followed him into the elevator, gazing up at him. It took a few seconds, but finally he glanced down at her, and she saw his mandibles tick upwards in a smile. Faith wrinkled her nose.

“You want it? Trust me, if I could give you the title...”

“ _No_ thanks. I'm good.”

The smile between them held for a few long, comfortable seconds. A relief. It made her feel like maybe everything was going to be okay. Both in the cosmic sense, and between them.

“C'mere,” she said, beckoning him downward.

“Something on my face?” he asked, leaning down as she reached for him.

“Yeah, me,” she said, and planted a small kiss at the top of his mandible, a brief brush of her lips. She released her gentle hold on his jaw, and smiled. “Thanks for everything tonight.”

“You _should_ be grateful. Grateful I didn't have a gun,” he said, and then chuckled at her tired look. “I know. It was your fight, Shepard. Still gonna put a fist-shaped hole in his face if I ever see him again. You gotta report that to the doc?”

She rolled her eyes at him, giving him a small shove as the doors opened on the crew level. “I will if I have a reaction.”

Garrus trooped out, turning back to her. “Doctor Chakwas said-”

“I know what she said!” Faith snapped back, trying to hide a laugh. She was about to say something further, but the doors started to close, and she heard a familiar voice coming from the direction of the mess. “Shi-” The doors closed. Sighing, she mashed the open button.

It took a few seconds, and when the doors slid back open, Garrus was still standing there, chuckling at her.

“Shut up, I thought she was still on the bridge. Give me some of the bags.”

“Nah,” he said, and continued on his way.

She glared at his retreating back, but had to bolt forward when the doors started to close again. They pinged back open as she slid through. A delighted, high voice calling Garrus' name made her smile, and she gave it a second, moving to lean against the wall separating the elevator from the mess.

Two breaths, three- Faith steeled herself, eyes closing for a second.

This was going to be weird for her, no way around it- but like facing Marcus, this wasn't about her. The kid couldn't take care of herself. She could probably fend for herself, but she shouldn't _have_ to. No kid should.

They'd figure something out- if there was one thing Faith was good at, it was picking up the pieces when one of her choices went horribly, horribly awry. Like signing an adoption application just because she knew she wouldn't get picked. Stupid irony button.

It was going to be all right.

Breathing in one last time, she pushed off the wall.

Wandering around the corner, she was greeted by the sight of Joker laughing as Garrus was berated, a finger being jabbed into his chest as he stood there laden with the bags. Emi looked...taller. It was one thing to see two years in the changing of the world, and another thing to see it in a kid. She was still small for her age, Faith thought, and definitely a little thin- like she'd just had a growth spurt.

Or like she wasn't being fed enough.

Her straight jet black hair was longer, hanging in her face as she poked at Garrus accusingly. “-'n you could have told me, but you-” Faith cleared her throat, and the accusing stare turned on her, widening. “Mom!”

“Took you long enough,” Garrus said.

Weirdly shy, Faith just stood there as the kid barelled at her, “uh, hi. Hi, Emi.”

The sprint turned to a dead stop, and Emi stared at her. Faith stared back. The awkwardness was rising- maybe she should pat her on the shoulder? Shake her hand? Oh god, Faith, don't make this weird, it's-

“Can I hug you?”

The nervous fear in the question cut through Faith's stupid brain. Fear of rejection. The hell would do that to a kid?

“Yeah,” Faith said, crouching down to meet it. “Yeah, hi Emi.”

Slim arms wrapped around her, and she returned it tightly. It was easier than she'd feared. The hug was cautious at first, but it quickly turned clingy, fingers clutching at her sweatshirt. Faith smiled to herself, rubbing a hand up and down Emi's back under her t-shirt.

“You got bigger.”

“Duh,” Emi replied, a little quavery. “You were gone for like, forever.”

“Yeah, sorry, I was dead,” Faith said, rather than lying. Don't lie to kids. Emi pulled back, staring up at her in shock, and Faith smiled. “They put me back together. I'm okay no-” A hand reached up for one of the few remaining visible cybernetic scars on her face, the glow at her temple. “Yeah. Don't worry, I'm not a killer robot. We checked pretty carefully.”

“You sure?” Emi asked, hand dropping before it touched her face.

The suspicious look made Faith smile. “Yeah. I'm sure. Don't worry, Garrus keeps an eye on me, just in case.”

“He didn't call me,” Emi said accusingly, glancing over her shoulder at where Joker and Garrus were upending the many bags all over the mess table. Her eyes widened slightly. “Woah...”

“Everybody wanted snacks, so I just bought a little of everything,” Faith admitted with a little smile. “Do you wanna eat a bunch of junk food while we talk? I might not know a lot about kids, but I know that's a thing.”

“Yeah, okay,” Emi said, but her expression instantly went a little distant.

“What is it?” Faith asked, trying to be patient. “You can talk to me. It's me.”

“Joker said we're going to Citadel, are you going to get rid of me?” she asked bluntly.

Faith tried not to wince.

“Get rid of? No. Find somewhere for you to stay safely while I beat up the Collectors? Yeah. Gonna meet with Admiral Anderson and the Captain and talk about our options- you can come if you want. If we're talking about you, you've got every right to be there,” Faith said, not bothering to sugar-coat it. “It's your life, and your choice.”

Emi's expression remained skeptical, but less aloof. “The Captain's kinda scary.”

“I know she can seem that way at first, but once you get used to her, she's not. I promise. And I'm sorry you can't stay on the Normandy, but we're fighting gross bug guys. That's kind of the rough part about picking me to be your mom. I hope you don't regret it.”

That seemed to work. The hard look in Emi's eyes faded away, and she glanced down at her feet. “I don't like it. But...I guess you're right.”

Faith wasn't sure what to say, and knew nothing could really fix it, but...

“I'm sorry I was late.”

Emi shrugged, blinking rapidly. “You were dead. So, whatever. It's okay.”

“I hear gummy worms are pretty good. I think I can eat them now. Should we try them out?” Faith asked, glancing up when she felt eyes on her. Garrus caught her stare, and tipped his head slightly. She returned it, and then glanced back down to Emi.

Emi who was shifting her gaze between them suspiciously.

“What?” Faith asked with a laugh.

“He _really_ didn't know?”

“Garrus didn't lie to you,” Faith said, getting to her feet. “I only just got into contact with him, too. He helped me rescue you. He's on our team, okay?”

“Our team?” Emi asked.

“Yeah, Team Shepard,” Faith said, herding Emi to the table. She pulled her out a chair across from Garrus, Joker at the head of the table like he usually was. She noticed he was using the elbow crutches, but didn't say anything.

He knew his own limits, but she still worried.

“You know Sarge's going to start making breakfast in like twenty minutes,” Joker said, eyeing the pile of food. She noted he was still unwrapping his candy bar.

“Well, luckily for him I brought breakfast,” Faith said cheerfully, waiting until Emi flopped in her chair to pull one out herself. “My granddad always told me that if you didn't eat sweets for at least a couple meals every now and again, you weren't living properly. Had ice cream for dinner once every month of his life until he died.”

“Admiral Shepard was a man of principles,” Joker said, saluting and then taking a bite out of his bar.

“Your grandpa was an Admiral?” Emi asked, hesitantly reaching for a package.

“Yep! Admiral Landry Shepard. I can show you some pictures later, mom probably has some,” Faith said, sharing a brief look with Garrus. By now she could read him enough to tell he was a little upset, watching Emi. She extended a foot as far as she could under the table, a little awkwardly, and kicked him in the shin. He glanced up at her. Faith flashed him a reassuring smile. “Hey, what's that, Em? I have no idea what _any_ of this stuff is.”

Frowning, Emi picked up the package she was cautiously poking and turned it over. “Umh, it's called a moon pie.”

“Huh, is it made from real moon?” Faith asked innocently, grinning at the disgusted look both Joker and Emi gave her. “What, it's not?”

“Oh my god, you're not funny,” Emi groused, tearing open the package. She pulled out the weird chocolate sandwich-snack thing, splitting in half with gooey strings of marshmallow.

“She's really not,” Joker agreed.

Faith rolled her eyes and grabbed the package, turning it over to scan the ingredients, which were... “Wow, that's a lot of chemicals. Umh...” As Emi offered her half of it, she lifted a hand. “Hang on, I gotta scan the ingredients and make sure I'm not allergic.”

Bringing up her omni-tool, she brought up the custom application she had for just such occasions.

As she scanned the package, Joker stole her half of the moon pie. “So, as I was saying before, Shepard.”

“Hmm?”

“He means me, mom,” Emi said with pre-teen exasperation.

“Yeah, mom,” Joker said mockingly. “I haven't really talked to Hilary in a while. I don't know what to say.”

“Just ask her about kid stuff, it's not that hard,” Emi advised, splitting the moon pie in half again. Rather than deny her, Faith obediently took her quarter, lest she get scolded again. “Like...video games, or shows she's watching.”

“Who's Hilary?” Garrus asked.

“My little sister. I'd already left home when she was born. They waited 'till I was gone to have another kid, I took up a lot of their time. I call every now and again, but I never know what to say,” Joker said, glancing down at the moon pie. “This is going to make me sick.”

“You're the one that took it,” Faith said.

There was dairy in the thing, somehow smuggled in among all the chemicals, but Karin had said she needed to try more dairy, so...

Faith took the bite, and immediately had to clap a hand over her mouth. It wasn't just the spongy cookie and the gooey inside, it was the overwhelmingly sugary flavor. It tasted like cavities. “Oh my god that's sweet,” she mumbled from around her mouthful.

“Mom, don't spit out food,” Emi told her with a smirk, and then turned her attention back to Joker. “You don't gotta like...know what to say. You can just ask her questions. Also, send her pictures.”

“Pictures, huh?” Joker said thoughtfully. “I guess I could do that.”

Faith managed to finish chewing through the gooey mess, but the marshmallow clung to her mouth and the cookie was in her teeth. Squinting an eye, she cleaned out a crevice in her molar with her tongue. “I don't think this is what the doctor meant when she said I should eat real food, but-”

“But what?” a mild voice asked from behind her.

Whipping around, Shepard glanced up at Karin, who was standing with her arms lightly crossed, and a smile on her face. The smile deepened as she glanced to Emi, and tipped her head, before it returned to Faith. She could see the amusement.

“People asked me to pick up snacks.”

“Did you empty a grocery store?” Karin asked.

“Gas station, but yeah,” Garrus said, with a chuckle.

“If you have a moment to spare from your feast, we should administer your first dose,” Karin said, and then paused at Shepard's lifted hand. “Yes?”

“Do you mind if Garrus comes? There's something I need to discuss with both of you,” Faith said, flashing a quick, reassuring smile. She could feel Garrus staring at her, but she knew he wouldn't say anything in public.

“It's your medical procedure, Commander. And your choice,” Karin said. She paused for a moment, surveying the table with a critical air. Faith was bracing herself for a complaint about all the junk food when Karin carefully reached out, picking up a small packet of cheese crackers. “I haven't had these in years. May I?”

“Of course, doc,” Faith agreed, cracking a smile. She turned her attention to Emi as Karin left. Em seemed curious, but less wary and stiff. “I have to get allergy stuff every day. It's helping me get over them. I won't be long.”

“How come Garrus has to go?” Emi asked.

“Because I like inconveniencing him,” Shepard said cheerfully, giving her a brief pat on the shoulder as she rose. “It's one of my favorite hobbies.”

“You have no idea how true that is, Mini,” Garrus told Emi, pushing to his feet as well. “We won't be long. Don't let your Uncle Joker eat himself sick.”

“I won't,” Emi said seriously, over Joker's complaint.

Nodding her head to Garrus, Faith headed for medi-bay, tongue still trying to clean the inside of her mouth. Karin was waiting for them as they entered, already with the datapad in hand. Garrus moved to lean against the wall, watching her curiously.

“Allergens you consumed this morning?”

“Just milk, according to my omni-tool. I was going to try out gummy worms, though.”

“They should be safe, but be mindful of possible reactions to carrageenan. Chest tightness, discomfort in your throat that may hinder swallowing. You haven't shown a renewed reaction, but direct consumption is different than allergy testing,” Karin instructed, turning to open the front panel of the chemical synthesizer to fetch a vial. “May I ask what it is that requires Garrus being present?”

“I'm curious myself,” Garrus admitted.

Maybe it had been wrong to bring him. Stupid. But things had been so much better than she'd feared they would be because he had been at her back...and the boundaries were getting all blurry again.

She half-turned to him, offering an apologetic smile. “I need moral support. Karin...you're a mandated reporter, right?”

Karin paused in opening a vial, turning to face both of them. Her expression sobered. “I am, yes.”

“I need to convince Emi to get a full physical. Any bruises, injuries, old healed injuries...I need to know if she's been fed enough, if she's getting the right nutrition, if-”

“Faith?” Garrus asked quietly.

“I need to start a fucking paper trail,” Faith said bluntly. It'd been on her mind since they'd left Marcus'. She couldn't trust he'd mind his own fucking business, so she needed to gather ammo. “But I don't know how to talk to kids, or convince her this is okay, that this is safe. I need her to feel safe right now, because I'm basically picking her up to abandon her all over again, and I feel like shit about that...but I also need this information to _keep_ her safe. So help me. Help me figure out how to do this, please.”

“You believe she was being physically abused?” Karin asked quietly.

“I was,” Faith admitted. It got a little easier each time, but it also wasn't something she wanted to talk about. This wasn't about her, though, it was about Emi. “I don't know. I need her to feel safe enough to consent to a physical, and I need to get her talking to someone. Someone who knows how to deal with this sort of thing. Even if he wasn't hurting her physically...”

“She was at least being neglected,” Garrus said simply, but his voice was tighter now.

“I can contact a colleague on the Citadel who specializes in working with children. She may know someone who has additional experience with children who have been traumatized,” Karin said, giving a small nod of her head. “Not to be blunt, Shepard, but it will be better for _you_ that I not be the one to carry out the examination.”

“Well, we are on a Cerberus vessel right now, so I get it. I don't want to spring it on her right this second anyways, she needs some time to just feel safe. If only I still had Amanda's comm address...”

“I have it,” Garrus said, and she blinked and glanced at him, head craning around. He gave her a faint smile. “She gave it to me at your funeral. I never called her but I hung onto it for...I don't know why.”

The 'f' word made her wince. Garrus made a small sound of apology, but Faith just shook her head.

“I'll call her, tell her what's going on. If she doesn't feel up to it, she'll recommend someone. If she could deal with _me_ as a kid, she can deal with Emi,” Faith said, giving a long sigh, rubbing her forehead.

“Are _you_ all right, Faith? This is a massive adjustment,” Karin asked. “Your mental health is important as well.”

“I'm in deal with it mode. This is a problem I need to find a solution to,” Faith said, spreading her hands in a helpless little shrug. “This is kind of the rough part of not having much family. I don't really have anyone to lean on to help out, but I'll figure something out.”

“You have us,” Garrus assured her, and she managed a smile and a nod for him.

“You've had contact with her all this time. Do you think she'd be receptive to this stuff? I'm working with no clue here, Garrus, I need you to help me out.”

“I think...” Garrus paused, voice taking on a comfortable, easy drawl. “If you asked her, Shepard? She'll do it for you. I definitely think she's not going to be happy leaving the ship, but Emi's tough, she understands why.”

“I wish she didn't have to be tough,” Faith admitted quietly. “But that's not here or there. It's Shepard needs to fix it time right now. Okay. Thank you, Karin. I'll contact Amanda once it's a good time on Earth. I'd better go out there before Joker eats himself sick.”

Karin passed her the dose, and she tossed it back deftly, and then lifted it in salute.

“This is increased concentration from the last dose, so give it at least ten minutes before you eat anything potentially triggering,” Karin instructed her.

“Gotcha,” Faith agreed, passing the vial back. Turning towards the door, she smiled at Garrus, apologetically. “Thanks. Sorry for dragging you along.”

“Glad to be here,” he assured her.

They left the medi-bay together, but he caught her elbow before they turned into the mess, pulling her back a little. Behind them it was noisy now, lots off talking and laughing- nice to hear. Hopefully it meant her ridiculous shopping spree was a nice surprise.

“What's up?”

“I just- Shepard, I don't want you to forget I'm at your back. That's all. I don't like you apologizing for asking for my help. You were saying that you had to fix it, you had to fix it, but...you're not alone. It doesn't have to be just you.”

Oddly reluctant, she gave a long sigh. She got why he was saying it, but...damn it, didn't he know how frustrating it was at the same time? “You do remember that whole conversation we had where I told you my boundaries when it comes to you are non-existent, right? Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to come with me, but-”

“That's not what I want you to say,” he interrupted her.

“But there are still things I need _you_ to say, Garrus. That's what I'm trying to say. This has to be _better_ than last time. I'm trying.” She almost made the accusation that he wasn't, but that wasn't fair. He was allowed to need time, but...she didn't want to just fall back in together, either. And that felt like what was happening, like they were getting dragged back into each other's orbit.

And things were still unresolved between them.

“And I'm not?” he asked, a little more bitterly than she'd been expecting.

Well... “I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to. You're right, I'm good at giving up, not trying.”

“Garrus,” she snapped, unable to help how tired it sounded.

Sighing, he turned his head away, mandibles dropping. “Damn it, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that.”

“It's been a long day. Night. Whatever.”

“I'm gonna go do some thinking. Maybe get a little rest,” Garrus said. At least he briefly gave her a clasp on the shoulder as he went past her, disappearing around the corner.

Shepard leaned against the wall, lifting fingers to rub her forehead. The motion was interrupted by Garrus' voice just around the corner, a faintly exasperated 'Emi', followed by a long sigh. Before Shepard could push off, Emi ducked around the corner, and then turned to peer around it back the way she came, sticking out her tongue.

“You can take the duct rat off the Citadel...” Faith said, somewhere between amused and exasperated. When Emi whirled to face her, pushing her hair out of her face, she shook her head disapprovingly. “Eavesdropping isn't cool.”

“I just wanted to know where you were,” Emi said defensively, and then paused. A few emotions flickered across her face, until concern settled in. “Is everything okay with you n'Garrus?”

“Yeah, buddy. You don't have to worry about adult stuff just yet, be grateful. All you have to do is worry about eating yourself sick. I was promised gummy worms, I think.”

Emi smiled. “I gave them to Uncle Joker to hide. Everybody's all excited.”

“Good, let's go get to them,” Faith suggested, shoving her hands in her pockets and sauntering back for the mess. “Hey, how come you call Ash and Joker aunt and uncle, but not Garrus?”

After a couple thoughtful seconds, Emi shrugged. “He just doesn't seem like one I guess. Not enough fun.”

Faith didn't bother to hide the faint 'snrk' of laughter. “Okay, fair.”

They returned to the mess table to find it swarmed by crew picking through her spoils of war. Faith's return was greeted with thanks and laughter. It was nice, and the kid seemed to like it, telling a vastly exaggerated story of her escape at least three times to various groups of the crew. Slowly the wariness and suspicion were fading- a relief. Sure, they'd be back, but she just wanted Emi to have a little fun time on the ship.

It made her feel bad that the Normandy was no place for a kid.

Gummy worms were still too sweet for her it turned out, but the sour ones were right up Faith's alley. Nice to find something she enjoyed eating. Granted, they burned the skin off her tongue and probably had never seen a naturally occurring substance, but sometimes that was what you needed.

Eventually Emi started getting tired over her destroyed pile of garbage food, with an abruptness that almost made Faith believe all those old debunked stories about sugar crash.

Engaging the stubbornness she remembered so well, despite being half-awake Emi insisted she get to sleep in the Captain's quarters. Faith couldn't really argue- it was only going to be possible for two nights. She worried about her nightmares waking the kid up, but at least the couch was comfortable.

Curled up on it with a datapad, she sorted through messages. The ones sent in through the Alliance had finally been filtered in, and there were a lot of them. She scrolled down the list, seeing familiar names, unfamiliar names...something from Emily Wong, which would be worth reading. Another name on the list made her stall, but for a less good reason.

_Chloe Michel_

Staring at it, debating the merits of reading it or not, there was a small 'ahem' from the bed. Faith lifted her head, meeting dark eyes in the dim light, barely peeking out of the white pile of her blanket. Lifting an eyebrow, she smiled. “You're supposed to be asleep.”

“I'm scared,” Emi confessed in a tiny, faint voice.

“How come?”

The blanket pulled over Emi's head. It took a minute, but finally she faintly said, “I don't wanna wake up and be back there. I just imagined it, and now I can't stop imagining it. I'm dumb.”

“Nah, not dumb. I get that,” Faith said, slinging herself up from the couch and wandering over to the bed. Gesturing with her datapad, she rested a knee on the bed. “Scoot.”

Emi wriggled out of the way, curling onto her side facing Faith as she sat down on the bed, on top of the blanket. Belatedly Faith remembered the pistol under her pillow and leaned over to snatch it, checking the safety before popping out the heat sink. “You didn't see that, solder, understood?”

“Understood,” Emi said, but she could feel the curious stare. “Why do you have that?”

“Because I get scared, too,” Faith said, finishing disassembling the pistol and shoving it in her bedside drawer. “And sometimes I can't stop imagining things.”

Emi frowned, eyes sleepily heavy as she squinted up at Faith. “...oh.”

“You and me both know the world's sometimes a scary place. But I'm here, and I still will be when you wake up.”

There was so long a pause that Faith though Emi might have fallen asleep, but when she glanced up from her datapad, the eyes were still fixed on her. “D'you promise?”

“Yeah. I promise,” Faith said, and then gestured upward with the datapad. “Just watch the stars. Can't see them like that on Earth. They're brighter out here.”

Emi rolled onto her back and stared upward, pushing her hair out of her face. “I always looked up at the stars. Sometimes I sneaked out to see them. Even though I knew you weren't up there any more like you said you always would be...”

“Emi, I...” What could she say?

“It's okay. You're not like my other mom, right? You didn't _want_ to leave me?”

Faith inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly as she averted her eyes for a second. The overwhelming wave of emotion hurt, but more for the kid than for her. Damn it.

“No, kiddo, I never wanted to leave you.”

“Then it's okay,” Emi said placidly. “You did your best, mom.”

By the time she managed to look at the kid again, her eyes were peacefully closed.

Faith stayed with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday! Faith is working on her dad jokes. 
> 
> Probably will have the first chapter of my Mass Effect Andromeda fic up tomorrow or Saturday.


	23. Chapter 23

When Garrus ran into Faith leaving the elevator, Emi was lurking behind her like a shadow.

They nearly ran into each other, and there was a pause and an awkward laugh, Faith shuffling out of his way. He was relieved to see she didn't seem annoyed with him. He was embarrassed about how he'd acted earlier, but her smile was the same as ever as she gestured to the closing elevator with a flourish.

“All yours.”

“I was going to find you,” he admitted, and then glanced at the shadow staring at him expectantly from behind Faith. “It can wait.”

“I can cover my ears,” Emi piped up.

Garrus chuckled. “It can wait. You two going to eat?”

“I need to wait a bit, but Emi's going to. We were just working out,” Faith said, tilting her head towards the mess.

He nodded and followed, asking Emi, “so how much weight did you manage? Two fifty? Three hundred?”

Rolling her eyes at him, she retorted exasperatedly, “I didn't do any _weights_ , Garrus. Mom was showing me some mat stuff. Did you know how good she is at gymnastics?”

Well, at least he made Faith smile at his stupid joke.

“I did. She's the best,” he agreed.

Emi grabbed a chair at the table, pulling it out and plopping down

“Not as good as I used to be. I'm getting there, though. Did you decide what you wanted to do when I go out to eat with the Captain?” Faith asked Emi, heading across the mess to pull down a ration and heat it up. “Garrus, hungry?”

“I'm good, thanks.”

Emi nodded rapidly, hair swinging. “Yeah, I wanna go with you. Garrus, what are you gonna do?”

“Meeting a friend,” he said, hoping it'd be left at that.

“Riva or Lasina?” Faith asked, because of course she did.

It wasn't that he minded her asking, she was being polite, but the kid was here, and- “Doctor Michel, actually.”

“Oh. She ah- sent me a message. Haven't opened it,” Faith said, setting Emi's meal down in front of her.

“You should.”

“Do you want to read it?” Faith asked, awkwardly.

He got that she was trying to be thoughtful, but the question was so ridiculous that he couldn't help the chuckle. “No, I don't need to read your messages.”

“Just asking,” Faith said defensively. Definitely seemed a little weird about it. “I'll be back in a few minutes, Emi, once I finish talking with the doctor.”

“Sure, mom.”

Faith left them with a wave, disappearing into the med-bay. Like she usually did. Seemed to be in there four or five times a shift, lately. He knew why, but it was a lot. Really made him think about how much work she was putting in.

It couldn't be easy.

Turning his attention back, Garrus watched the kid poke at the rations with amusement. “You know this ship has real levo food, right?”

“I like ship food, I can have regular food any time,” Emi said, and then glanced up at him pensively. Deliberately she set down her fork and leveled a very serious stare at him. She rested her elbows on the table, fingers lacing together.

Garrus was feeling very judged. “What did I do?”

“That was _weird_ , Garrus,” Emi said pointedly, still staring him down. “What's going on with you and mom?”

_Er..._

“Don't worry about it.”

“I'm _twelve_ , Garrus, not _five_ ,” Emi said, a little harsher than he felt was necessary. “I'm not dumb. Okay?” Definitely a bit more aggressive than usual.

“Now why are you suddenly acting like I'm the bad guy, Mini?”

Emi gave a faint 'hmph', sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms. She tilted her head to the side. “'Cause it's my mom.”

Well, he couldn't argue with that. As much as he got Faith's side of it, how weird it was to have this all dropped on her head out of nowhere, he and Emi had been dealing with this for two years without her. No, it wasn't exactly fair to Faith, but Em had been clinging to the idea of her being 'mom'.

Being defensive made sense, but he wasn't the target for it.

“You know I missed her, too,” Garrus said, and then sighed when she silently continued staring at him. He knew it would continue until he answered her. “We're...working on things, Em. It's complicated. Your mom and I care a lot about each other, but-”

“Are you _dating_?” Emi asked pointedly.

Okay, this was not the subject he was expecting. “Ah, no, I think that means going out on dates. Right now there isn't really time for that.”

The judgmental stare got worse, Emi's lips tightening. “Why don't you _make_ time?”

Garrus was beginning to get the distinct feeling he was being herded.

“We go where Shepard says we go,” Garrus said, trying not to get defensive. It was funny, but also a little annoying. What did she expect him to do? “Can I know what started this, Mini? This came out of nowhere.”

“Mom said she's never been to the movies before,” Emi informed him, arms crossing.

“We watch movies sometimes.”

“No, like in a theater, _duh_. Cause of her allergies and stuff.”

“That makes sense, but-” Garrus had a sneaking suspicion... “Are you telling me you _want_ me to take your mom on a date?”

“I'm saying if you don't do it right you don't get to,” Emi said, unfolding her hands and picking up the fork again. She dragged her fork through something goopy and brown.

Torn between amusement and confusion that he was having this conversation at all, Garrus shook his head. “I don't think that's your call, Mini.”

Emi being Emi, she ignored that completely. “I watched human shows while I was on Earth, people always go to the movies and a restaurant on a date but she said she hasn't ever. Don't you like mom?”

Unimpressed with the emotional manipulation, he crossed his arms and stared down at the terrorist calmly eating her 'ship food'. “We're kinda busy saving the galaxy. And what would Shepard think if she heard you were trying to bully me like this?”

“I'm not bullying you,” Emi countered coolly, as composed as ever. “Cause now it's me and mom, not just mom, so I've gotta look out for her, that's my job. We're a team and she says you're on our team, but mom's human, Garrus.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Emi pointed her fork at him. “So you gotta take her to do stuff humans like to do, Garrus. Buy her flowers an' stuff.”

“She's probably allergic to flowers, Mini,” he said, and then sighed at the hard look she gave him. “What?”

“You're making lots of excuses.”

“And you're bossy,” he said, laughing when she gave a firm nod. Trying to change tactics, he lowered his voice and leaned in. “Em. I thought we were friends, but you're being pretty mean.”

“If we weren't friends I wouldn't try to help you. Just like you help me with math even though I don't like it.”

“I see what this is. Revenge,” he said, and she finally smiled. “Okay. Thank you for your advice.”

“I'm pretty smart,” Emi said, more agreeably.

“What's fifty two divided by five?” Garrus asked. Glancing up past her at a movement at the edge of his vision, he watched Faith leave the medi-bay, expression withdrawn and thoughtful.

“Ten and a bit.”

“Ten and what bit, though?” Garrus asked, nodding to Faith as she wandered up behind Emi.

“Fuck you.”

“Emi!” Faith exclaimed, expression going shocked.

Whipping her head around, eyes widening, Emi stared up at Faith. Garrus didn't bother to hide his laugh, especially when Emi looked back at him and glared. Of course it was his fault. Behind Emi, Shepard smirked- oh, sure, let him get the nasty look for laughing at it.  
“You could have just said you didn't know,” Garrus said.

“Two fifths,” Emi replied, much more meekly than she had been before. Playing it up in front of Shepard, hmm? It wasn't fair for a guy to be stuck between these two.

“And as a decimal?”

“Can you stop hassling me?” she asked plaintively.

Faith snickered.

“Sure, if you stop almost failing your math tests,” Garrus said, chuckling at the betrayed look she gave him.

“But hey, that's what level of math?” Faith asked.

“Year six,” Emi muttered, cheeks turning red.

“Wow, you've caught up so much!” Faith said, reaching down and resting a hand on the kid's shoulder. “That's really impressive, Em. You must have been working pretty hard.”

Emi's morose expression faded, and she gave a small smile and a nod of her head. Graciously, she admitted, “Garrus helps me.”

“Thought it was called hassling,” he teased her.

She jabbed a fork at him. “I'm tryna eat, not do school.”

“She has a point,” Faith said with a smile, glancing down at Emi. “Hey, so you've got that call in about ten minutes, are you about done there?”

“Yeah,” Emi said, but he could see the uncertainty on her face. “Do I have to do it by myself?”

“I'll be there for the first couple minutes, but it's a private talk between you and Amanda. Don't worry. I started talking to her when I was about your age, too. It really helped me over the years to figure out my thoughts and help my brain stay healthy.”

“Okay,” Emi said, but he could see the reluctance was still there.

“Are you going to be free in about twenty?” Faith asked him, glancing up from Emi with a smile. “Just updates and things. I won't take too much of your time.”

Not really the audience to be telling her she could have any of his time she wanted. Especially not after the lecture he'd just endured. “Sure. I'm not a hard guy to find,” Garrus said, gesturing over his shoulder toward the battery. “Going to get back to the battery, the tests I was running should be done.”

“I would be happy to run your simulations for you, Garrus. It would increase your efficiency, as I would require much less time to complete them,” EDI said, speaking up.

He saw Faith hiding a smile, and it broke through when he gave her a look. Shaking his head at her grin, he addressed EDI, “don't take my job from me, now.”

“I am only making an offer to help.”

“Got it covered, EDI, thanks.”

Faith laughed under her breath. “You-”

“No,” he interrupted her, lifting a finger and pointing at her as he rose.

“I was only going to say-”

“No,” he repeated, turning his back on her and walking away as she laughed.

Retreating to the battery, he mulled over his conversation with the kid.

The swearing at him didn't bother him- she'd grown up on Citadel, he'd be surprised if there was a swear word in any language she didn't know. She'd always been a little prickly, it was part of her personality. And he liked it about her, she was a funny kid, but...

Well, she'd never been on the attack against him like _that_ before.

He was glad Faith hadn't been there for that conversation, she would have been embarrassed. Garrus didn't mind so much. It made sense that Em wanted to defend Shepard after finally getting her back, he knew how much she'd clung to the idea that they were a family even though Faith had died. But the whole dating thing- where had that come from?

He didn't know a lot about kids, but he did know they got funny ideas in their heads sometimes.

How would he even know if Faith cared about those kinds of things? Yeah, the idea that maybe she'd never had a chance to find out if she cared did bother him a little. Of course he wanted her to have all the things she couldn't before- but...

Well, maybe he should do some research.

“EDI, just between you and me...”

“Yes, Garrus?” the AI asked promptly.

“If you could do me a favor and take a hit for me...I really don't want to know what the extranet search results would be if I go looking for ah- human romance. Not looking for anything weird, but...you know. Normal stuff.”

“Without further details, I may be unable to correctly guess what you wish me to research.”

Okay, that was fair, he was rambling. He didn't want the AI to think he was looking for porn or something. “You know. How it usually goes, if there's any weird...expectations, or rituals...okay, that sounds strange. Emi was talking about flowers, and going to the movies, and I realized maybe I don't know what sort of standard protocols there might be. Does that help?”

“I believe I understand. In non-colloquial language, courtship rituals.”

“That doesn't make it sound less weird,” he informed EDI. But still, he had to admit, “yeah. That's pretty much what I meant.”

“I will compile the relevant data I find and send it to your omni-tool.”

“Not programmed to be judgmental?” he joked, venting his discomfort.

“Even if I were, this is not a situation to be judgmental about, Garrus,” EDI responded, to his surprise.

“I ah- well, thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

There were other things that probably needed some...research, but it wasn't really the time.

He had enough going on in his head right now, and they had a lot on their plates. The whole mess with Emi had briefly shelved his own worries, but Sidonis was still out there somewhere. Lasina was working on it, and so was he. It didn't matter how many credits it was going to take to find him. He'd drain it all if he needed to.

Lost in his head and the minutiae of calibrations, he'd all but forgotten Faith had asked to talk. When the door opened, he didn't even glance up, lifting a finger. There was a quiet, familiar 'mhm', and he met Faith's eyes once he locked in the changes he'd made.

She looked pensive. “Is it a bad time?”

“I'm in the middle of some calibrations, but...nah. Can you give me a minute to finish?”

“Mmh,” Faith agreed softly, wandering over to settle down on the crate in the corner.

There was no impatience with her presence lingering in the corner, he glanced over once and she was sitting with her knees tucked under her sweatshirt, doing something on her omni-tool. She looked a little different than usual, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it. Maybe her color was off- he knew that happened to humans when they weren't feeling their best.

She always got wan when she was sick.

“You okay, Trouble?”

“You going to scold me like the doctor? I didn't sleep. I had a nightmare and it scared Emi so I couldn't really go back to sleep. I got maybe an hour and a half,” she admitted quietly, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “Some stuff buried in my head trying to dig its way out.”

He leaned against the barrier, crossing his arms. “Need to talk about it?”

She shook her head rapidly, a few tendrils of hair fluttering across her face. Impatiently she pushed them back. “No. Once I've figured out where Emi can go, I'll feel better, I think. I um...the doctor's talking about weaning me off of the immunosuppressant injections. She thinks it's time.”

“Is that good?”

“It's...scary,” she said quietly, and then smiled. If a smile could be sad, this one was. “I'm scared a lot lately. I don't really like it. It doesn't make me feel like much of a big fat hero.”

“No one said coming back from the dead would be easy.”

“Mmh,” she agreed quietly.

His eyes watched her hands, twisting together, fidgeting. Nervous. So much so that it was starting to make him a little nervous, too.

“Just come out with it, Faith.”

She let out an explosive sigh. “I know I said I would be patient, but sometimes you snap at me like last night and it feels like there's something I still need to apologize for. Something you're avoiding talking to me about. I know I've got control issues and I have to accept that it might just be time you need...it's okay if that's it.”

What could he say?

Unfortunately, he knew where the rude comments kept coming from. He was frustrated. Yes, there was something she could do, that he wanted to ask her- but he also didn't want to ask her, because if she couldn't keep the promise it'd ruin everything.

And he didn't-

“I just- I feel bad saying it, but I don't trust you to talk to me if something's wrong instead of just making the call by yourself,” he admitted quietly. He knew she was trying, but that feeling didn't just go away so easily.

“I've been _trying_ to talk to you about things, and I told you why...”

Which he hadn't really let himself think about. He'd been badly wounded, and whether or not it'd been true then, he couldn't dwell on his feelings for her and if he was in love with her or not. Not with how things were between them. It didn't matter if he meant it, as bad as that sounded, because right now they had too much to sort out.

Before this went any further, he really needed to know...

“Do you still think you did the right thing when you left me without giving me a choice?”

“I-” To his surprise, she actually stopped instead of confirming it. There was a long pause, and then she finally said, “sweetheart, I'm not good at this. Treating someone like a partner and not a- a subordinate or superior. So maybe...so maybe it doesn't matter if I feel like I was right or wrong. Because it wasn't my choice to make.”

Well, he really hadn't been expecting that. Half of his fears had been hung up on their fight after the surgery, when she'd insisted that leaving him had been the right thing to do. He hadn't been expecting she'd _get_ it, and now that she had...well, he felt a little better.

“Had a good talk with Amanda?”

Faith laughed, embarrassed. “Only with the Amanda in my head. She and I agreed it's best that she just talk to Emi, having the same therapist isn't good. But you're right not to trust me, because I've given you no reason to. I guess I'm just afraid that I won't ever get the chance to prove that I can do better.”

She was trying, really trying. He had to do the same. Turning away, he forced himself to say- “It was hard to hear you say you were proud of me, because...I'm not. I'm not proud of the way I acted when I lost you, how angry and helpless I was. I couldn't stop looking for a fight. And some of it was because of how you left me.”

Faith gave a long, slow sigh that sounded so tired he felt bad he'd admitted it. “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you said that trust is a choice. That it's our choices that make us who we are, and I don't want to be that person again, star.”

“All right...” she said, quietly hesitant. “So...”

He had to make the effort. Even if he was afraid of what would happen if he did. Even if he thought maybe he was just setting himself up for a fall all over again.

It was time to just give it a shot and live with the fact that it might all go to hell again.

Spirits, was he an idiot?

“I need you to make me a promise. You have to promise me that you won't give up this time even if the allergies come back, if going off these shots screws everything up. I don't want to be saved, and you don't have the right to make choices for both of us.”

There was a long pause from Faith, so long he was starting to get nervous. Finally she inhaled, shuddering, and swallowed so heavily that he could hear it. “But what if I get bad again?”

“Then we'll figure it out. You and me together. You know Tali would help you pick out a suit in a heartbeat,” he said, and then chuckled faintly at her long sigh, finally turning to look at her. “I wanted to try and find a way, but you decided we weren't a team any more.”

Faith was staring pensively at her hands, one leg tucked up under the other now. He could see a slight tremble in her fingers before they tightened around each other. “It's a big...it's a big promise you're asking of me, Garrus. And- I know I don't have a great track record with them. Are you-”

Finally closing the space between them, he crouched down and extended his hands to her. He needed something to help deal with his damn nerves. When she reached out and took his hands without a second's hesitation, it helped. At least she was sure of that.

“I'm choosing to trust you, and not just because I can't seem to stay the hell away from you.”

“Not _just_ ,” she said, humor crackling in her voice.

“It may be a...pretty large portion of it, not going to lie. We're _really_ bad at staying away from each other.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly.

“So? If you need some time...”

“I promise,” she interrupted him, glancing from their hands to his. Her soft, dark eyes were a little sad, but when he escaped her grip to gently brush her cheek with his knuckles, she smiled. “I promise I'll do better this time. There's no Commander on team Shepard-Vakarian, just partners.”

“We'll argue about which name goes where next time,” he said, and her smile deepened, genuine and warm. “I ah- don't really know the protocol on getting back together, or- whatever this is.”

It didn't even really matter what it was, because the weight that had been lifted off of him was such a relief he would have accepted just about anything right now. He'd gotten up the nerve to ask, and she'd promised. And he believed her.

The details didn't matter- he had her.

“Never done it myself, but I guess it'd be something like...”

Her hand gently brushed his mandible, not pulling away at his reflexive flinch when her fingers brushed over his scars. It was easy to forget they were there. Garrus was expecting a kiss like the one she'd given him in the elevator, but instead her lips pressed directly against his mouth.

It was brief, but soft- not nearly as awkward as he would have expected it to be.

Actually, it was sort of nice.

“Something like that,” Faith offered, and gave a small, awkward smile. “I know turians don't kiss, but...”

“I could get used to it. Just hopefully won't be _too_ much of a disappointment,” he said, hand sliding down to her arm to give her a gentle tug. “Hey, c'mere.”

Settling back from his crouch, the hand on her arm slid around her back as she slipped off the crate and settled on his thigh. Ignoring the armor, she tucked herself in close, smile softening. He wrapped both arms tightly around her smaller frame.

“Mmh. Yeah, those are the good brain chemicals right there,” she declared contentedly.

“Happy to help. Though...really don't want to cause any issues with the crew, Trouble. We should probably be at least a little careful.”

“Oh wow, the thing we're worst at,” she said mockingly. “I know you're right. But I'm not too worried. You'd never undermine me in front of the crew- I've never had to have even a single moment's concern about how _you'll_ behave.”

“Well, I am turian,” he told her, and then smiled at her abrupt laugh. “What did I say?”

“Maybe that's why Hierarchy ships allow fraternization and Alliance don't. Because we're way worse that keeping our drama out of our duty.”

“Well, _I_ wasn't going to say it, but...” Even if it felt silly to pretend, he knew she'd probably appreciate the brief press of his mouth to the side of her head, like a kiss. From the small contented noise she made, he knew he was right.

“This makes me believe it's going to work out,” she admitted quietly, tilting her head when he nudged her gently with his nose.

He met her forehead with his, the vulnerable contact pushing away the last of his own fear and uncertainty. They were going to figure it all out, together. “It is, star. You and me, we've got this.”

He wasn't going to lose her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday! I hope it's treating you well.
> 
> [ I started an ME: Andromeda fic.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229810/chapters/71771901) It may not be to your taste, it's a bit looser with the canon (because I wanted dynamics with a bit more drama), but if you like my writing I hope you'll check it out!


	24. Chapter 24

Deeply absorbed in the datapad in her hand, Faith left the medi-bay without really paying attention to where she was going.

So of course she ran directly into someone.

The impact was hard, sending her back a step. The hand on her elbow was unnecessary for her balance, but she needed a bit for her pride, which had been bruised about as hard as her nose. Reaching up as she glanced into Garrus' face, she rubbed the end of it with a scowl.

“Ow.”

“You ever look where you're going?” he asked, taking the datapad as she handed it to him without question.

“My combat reflexes are exquisitely honed and enhanced. I just don't expect a medi-bay ambush,” she retorted, but smiled faintly at the squeeze on her elbow before he released her. Aware of their surroundings, she took a step back, still poking the end of her nose. Stupid spiky turian.

“I wanted to see if you were feeling better before we hit Citadel,” he said, and then gave a faint 'hmm'. “Tali?”

“I...I know she had stuff to do, when she said she couldn't come with. Maybe she can this time?” Faith said hopefully, stepping around to his side to watch as he read through the dossiers that had come in. “I'd feel much better about this if she was here.”

“I'm sure if she can, she will. Massani. I recognize that name,” Garrus said, still scrolling through. “Just reputation, though. The kind of guy you stay out of the way of. And a Justicar...? That's a big deal, Shepard.”

“From what I read if she feels the need to refuse she will, so all I can do is make our case and see what she says. I'm pretty charming, ya know. Shouldn't be any trouble,” Faith said, taking the datapad back from him. His attention focused back in her face, and she half-smiled. “What?”

“You look like you slept. That's good.”

“I took a pill,” she admitted, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “It was either that or risk scaring the kid again. And getting scolded by my mom.”

“You know your limits best,” Garrus said, glancing past her at the medi-bay. “Did you-”

“Yes, I reported my exposure,” she told him, a little testily. When he looked back at her, brow plates shifting, she sighed. “Sorry. I'm used to being held accountable for everything I do, it just feels weird having it extend into my private life like this. Running to the doc to report every smooch is uncomfortable.”

“It's only for a little while, you'll beat that allergy soon. Heading up to the airlock?”

The reassurance helped, even if they didn't know if it was true or not. She turned, tilting her head, and they wandered to the elevator together. “Yeah, Emi's waiting. I made her go up first because she was dragging her feet. Never seen someone less excited to go to Citadel. I remember the first-”

When she paused, he just waited patiently, but his stare was expectant.

Faith took a deep breath, and continued, “I remember when Ash and Kaidan went there the first time. Their minds were completely blown.”

“I forget how impressive it is,” he agreed, turning to lean against the wall as they entered the elevator.

“Yeah, me too. I shouldn't do that. Sometimes it's hard to remember in the middle of things. I-” she paused when he reached for her arm and tugged her in towards him.

When the elevator doors opened and he dropped her arm immediately, she laughed.

“I miss the old, slow elevators,” Garrus grumbled, stepping past her.

Still laughing, Faith followed him. “Later, later. Got a war to deal with today.” At his questioning look, she admitted, “Amanda thinks it's a good idea if I give Em some freedom to pick out clothes and get her hair done and things. Let her have control after having it taken away from her, you know? I just fucking hate shopping.”

“I've heard. Many times.”

“Plus? Not getting paid any more, so I have to watch the bank, you know?”

“Let me send you some creds, then,” Garrus said absently, and then chuckled at her dark look, turning his attention to his omni-tool as they paused. “For the kid.”

“Fine, for the kid,” Faith relented.

“I'll call you once I've had lunch and met with Las and my contact from C-Sec,” Garrus said absently.

His...wait, what?

'Contact' wasn't 'friend'.

Reaching out, she grabbed Garrus arm, pulling him around to face her. Then she released him, all too aware that besides Emi and Joker, there were a few other people on the bridge. She lowered her voice. “What are you doing? And don't try to be evasive, we're not doing that any more.”

“Just looking for someone who doesn't feel like being found,” he said.

“Sidonis, isn't it,” she said simply, and then sighed at his flinch and the evasion of his eyes. “You won't let me help?”

“Don't take this the wrong way, Shepard. Worry about Emi right now,” Garrus said, shaking his head. “That's what you need to do.”

“And support my partner,” she retorted, crossing her arms. “I'm not going to interfere. But don't leave me out of the loop like this, please.”

He lifted both hands to chest-height and gestured curtly. “Once I know something worth knowing, we'll talk. Let me handle this my way until then, please. This is my score to settle.”

Faith sure as hell didn't like that phrasing, but he was right that she needed to focus on Emi.

“It might be your score, but you're mine,” she told him as quietly as she could, poking him in the chest. “Please try not to forget that.”

The tension in his voice faded away, much to her relief. He almost sounded pleased. “A bit early to go getting possessive, Shepard, isn't it?”

“When you're being a dumbass, I don't have much choice,” she told him, turning away to head for where Emi was chattering animatedly at Joker. It wasn't really possessiveness, but she didn't feel like arguing. It was fear. Fear that the asshole would do something and get himself blown up or nearly killed again, and she wouldn't be there this time.

She imagined he probably felt the same way about her.

“Maybe I should be a dumbass more often,” Garrus mused quietly from behind her.

She let herself get a few good paces away before calling over her shoulder, “I'm sure you won't have any trouble managing that!”

At her shout, Emi turned and Joker swiveled in his chair to face her. She up-nodded them, and then the glowy blue ball that was EDI's physical presence on the bridge. Seemed weird to ignore her, even if she was everywhere.

“Mom!”

Funny that the kid had forcibly gotten her over the weirdness of hearing that.

“Hey. You ready to go? Joker, wanna come see the Captain and Admiral Anderson?”

“Ah, no. You can go get yelled at alone,” Joker replied, scoffing at her.

“Oh come on. Please?”

“Hell no, Commander! At least I know how to _act_ like a defector. You seem to have no idea.”

Emi giggled.

“Okay, okay. What am I bringing you back?”

“Garrus said he'd pick me up some food on the way back,” Joker said, spinning back around.

“Well, all right then. Heading out. Keep him out of trouble, EDI, would you?”

“Hey!”

“I fear that may not be within my capabilities, Commander,” EDI responded.

Surprised, Faith laughed abruptly, Joker's narrow stare at the AI making it even worse. “Well, damn...didn't know you knew how to tell a joke.”

“I was not aware I was making one,” EDI admitted.

Laughing, Faith herded Emi off the ship. They headed down the gangway together, and then threaded through the Citadel docks, side by side. It was a little early for the designated meeting time, but Faith planned to get some of the suffering over with first.

“You wanna pick out a new outfit to wear to lunch?” Faith asked casually, making sure to not look at the cuffed, too-big hand me down pants the kiddo was wearing. They were clean, at least, but obviously not bought with her in mind. She just didn't want to make the kid feel self-conscious about it.

“Why?”

“I gotta go try on an outfit I ordered for this thing I gotta go to, so I figured you could pick out some stuff while we're there,” Faith said with a shrug. “I saw in the catalogue they've got kid's stuff.”

“I guess I can look,” Emi said.

Well, that'd have to be good enough.

“Did you think about what you wanna do with your hair?” Faith asked. “You can do whatever. If you wanna keep it long, chop it off, get it dyed...”

“Can I get purple hair?” Emi asked, with a sidelong look and a dubious note in her voice.

“Yep,” Faith confirmed, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “If that's what you want, you absolutely can. What, were you expecting me to say no?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“It's your hair, buddy. You can do whatever you want with it- it grows back, who cares?” Faith said, giving a little snort.

“Can I get my nose pierced?” Emi probed, sticking close to her side as they headed up to the Presidium.

“I guess? It's just a lot of work to keep clean and stuff,” Faith said, and laughed at the suspicious eyeballing she was getting. “Emi, it's your body. You get to decide what happens to it as long as you're being safe- and I know you're old enough and smart enough to understand consequences.”

“Yeah, but it's your creds.”

“Well, I borrowed some from Garrus, so technically it's his creds,” Faith said with a faint snicker.

“Oh, that's okay, then,” Emi said, less suspicious now. “I'll spend those.”

Faith laughed.

It was nice to spend some time with Doctor Michel and talk.

She'd only brought up Shepard once, and it had been a passing 'how is she', which Garrus was fine answering. He'd been considering if there might be some sort of human friendship rule that said he had a duty to tell her, but- she hadn't seemed all that hung up on Faith. Maybe it was fine. After all, as far as Chloe knew, he had no idea she and Faith had slept together.

They'd parted ways outside the hospital, where she'd been working since Saren's attack.

It was always a little odd to be back and see the changes, and he wondered if Emi felt the same way.

On cue, his omni-tool beeped as he was wandering aimlessly, thinking about stopping in the shop to look at weapon mods. Faith. Huh, what could she need all ready?

“Hey.”

“I've only got a minute, Emi's in the bathroom and we're waiting for mom and David. Emi's acting kind of weird, and I don't know what to do.”

“Okay...” he said uncertainly.

“I tried to take her to pick out something to wear to lunch, and she kept freaking out over the prices. Before she was fine asking me for stuff, I'm not sure what's going on. I'm doing my best to be chill. I feel like she's afraid I'm going to get mad for spending money on her? She keeps pushing and testing me about how expensive things are to see if I'll get mad, and then she just hangs the clothes back up and goes 'I don't like it' and moves on.”

“Do you think that it has something to do with Marcus?” he asked, pausing by a planter, leaning against the side.

“Shit. I didn't think of- of course it might. What do you think I should do? I hate shopping, and I tried to pretend like it was fun so she'd do it, but...I think I did a shitty job.”

Garrus wracked his brain, but he felt about at home with this as Faith did. “Well, I'd just worry about lunch right now. Do you know anyone on Citadel that _likes_ shopping? Or maybe someone with kids around the same age?”

“No. What about you?”

“Nah. I can ask Las when I meet up with her. She hasn't been here long, but she has family here at least,” Garrus said, watching people wander by, sinking into the familiar rhythm. Instinctively he glanced across faces, noting the ones that passed by. Or...well, bodies, in the case of the hanar. Something about being here just set off his old cop instincts.

“Okay. Gotta get through this lunch, and then take Emi to get her nose pierced. I'll check in with you while she's getting it done.”

“Is that a joke?” Garrus asked dubiously.

“No, why?”

“Isn't she too young for body modification, Shepard? Is it cultural?”

“No, just for fun. Don't be a square, sweetheart.”

“I don't know what that means, but I'm not,” Garrus replied, and then sighed at Faith's mocking laugh. Rude. “Hey. Just play it by ear. You and I both know she's had a hard life, and that can cause some hangups. You've got this, honey.”

“Mmh. Thanks for the pep talk.”

“That's what I'm here for- reassurance and witty banter.”

“When does the second part happen?” Faith laughed in his ear.

“You are being _mean_ today,” he accused with a chuckle.

Faith's voice sobered. “Sorry.”

“Not complaining. Tell the Admiral I say hi.”

“Hmm. Tell Lasina I say hi.”

The call ended, and he finished watching someone getting pickpocketed before he pushed off the planter with a foot, continuing on his way. Too much open space in this place. Instinctively wandering towards better cover, he made his way toward the meeting spot. Not really enough time to browse now, but there would be later.

Cerberus might be providing better toys, but he needed to find something to convince Faith to give up that creepy Collector gun.

Also, maybe might be a good idea to look into armor modifications- she refused to wear heavy armor, so a heavier weave for her under-armor might help. He got an aversion to shopping, but when it interfered with her safety he wasn't going to put up with it. There had a to be a limit.

A figure emerged abruptly from the shadow between two brightly lit shops, and he instinctively swiveled towards it, reaching for a weapon he didn't have at the moment.

“Okay, maybe you haven't gone completely soft,” Lasina laughed, lifting both hands in surrender. “Don't shoot, Archangel.”

“You're the one that stopped fighting, not me,” he said, swatting at her.

She dodged it with a laugh, and closed the space between them, throwing her arms around him. “You big dumb idiot.”

“Hey, you,” he replied affectionately, returning the hug. “How's it going?”

“Not great,” Lasina admitted, grabbing him by the arm and leading him. He followed in her wake. “Chora's still isn't reopening, so we're kind of just puttering around. Riva's bored out of her mind. You sure your Commander doesn't need more people?”

“I thought you were done playing vigilante for now.”

“Yeah, but Riva's not happy, so...you know her. She needs to be engaged, doing something interesting. She got us banned from three of the casinos already for telling them the many ways people could cheat at their games- you think they'd be grateful for a free security consult.”

“I know you. You have to have some sort of plan,” he pointed out, which got him a broad grin.

“A little. My mom says she can help us get established on Illium if I agree to work for her there. Which, ick, but she worries way too much about me.”

“Illium,” he said, trying to remember why that sounded familiar. Right. One of the dossiers Shepard had showed him was leading them there. The Justicar. “We'll be heading that way, but I've never really known an asari to get all worked up about their kids running around the galaxy. Isn't that what maidenhood is for?”

“I may have taken the ceremony before she wanted me to,” Las said. She laughed at the look he gave her, shaking his arm as she bounced along at his side. “What?”

“How old _are_ you? You never give me the same answer twice.”

Lasina laughed, reaching up and awkwardly scratching at her crest. “Um. Older than you, that's all that matters, right?”

“Las.”

“It ruins the mystery if I actually tell you,” she said, and then yanked harder on him. “So this guy we're meeting.”

He knew her well enough to know she wouldn't answer him.

“This guy.”

“I already paid him, so if he starts talking about money, sho-” She glanced over at him, and then frowned. “Oh right, we're not armed. Shit, this place is annoying.”

“This isn't Omega,” he said, more amused than anything else. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot one of my few remaining C-Sec contacts.”

“Efficiency sacrificed, and for what?” she gestured around dismissively at the open, airy presidium. “This?”

“Safety and less corpses in the street, yeah,” he said mildly.

“Tsk. Corpses add character. You have good timing getting here now. What are you guys doing on Citadel, just gearing up?”

They paused at the air car station, and he brought up his omni-tool to summon a vehicle.

“Just went to Earth to pick up Shepard's kid,” Garrus said, trying to find a way to phrase it without bringing up any of Faith's private business. “It was pretty short notice so she's meeting with her mom and a friend to try and find a safe place to send her.”

“Earth isn't safe?” Las asked dubiously.

“Trying to find a place out of Alliance's legal reach to send her,” Garrus said, hoping she'd get the hint and not push further. The car arrived and they both slung in, doors closing behind them. He let her input their destination, conversation pausing for a moment.

Once they lifted off, she leaned back in her seat and glanced over at him, golden eyes shrewdly narrowed. He wondered what she was thinking.

Lasina was smart- whatever it was, she just shrugged it off. “Got you. Well, that shouldn't be hard. Plenty of places that'd laugh in the face of Alliance authority.”

“Safe places?” he said pointedly.

“Eh. She's Commander Shepard's kid, I'm sure she's tough.”

“Speaking of. You know anyone with kids, or anyone that'd have fun helping someone spend money? The kid needs to go clothes shopping, but both Faith and I are hopeless when it comes to things like that. Kid needs a little push.”

“Sure, Riva would probably have a great time.”

“Riva,” Garrus said, glancing over at her blankly. “Riva Sartellius, turian security expert. Would want to take a human child clothes shopping?”

“You kidding? She loves clothes. If I have to hear one more rant about turian boutique options I'm going to lose it, she's hilarious when she gets going. I keep telling her to just learn to fabricate. It's not like we can't afford a fabricator. You never know, she could start a whole new trend.”

“That is the most un-turian thing I have ever heard.”

“Oh shut up, you're not even a good turian. Which is why we all ended up together, our merry band of misfits.”

“Mmh, you have a point,” he agreed, following her out of the air car when it came to a stop. The bar they were meeting at was down the way. There were less signs of Sovereign's attack these days, but this area of the Wards seemed to have been barely hit in the first place.

It was lively, noisy, perpetual neon night as people wandered in and out of bars and clubs.

The bar they were going to was at the end of the strip, quieter and darker than the rest. Lasina dragged him in, heading straight for a table up a half-level, and in the corner. They settled down at the table, her arm still locked around his. Getting Lasina to let go was a hopeless fight, better not to even try.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Maybe later?” she suggested, shifting her hand from his arm to her omni-tool, though her arm remained linked in his. “I want to take your Shepard out and grill her. Maybe get her drunk and hear some crazy stories.”

“Please don't,” he sighed.

“She's a celebrity! Don't be so stingy with your girlfriend. Share.”

“Please don't call her that- we're...we're not there, I don't want you scaring her,” he mumbled, trying not to think too hard about it. They were in a good place, he didn't want things to go wrong.

“Is everything okay? Or are you still moping 'cause she was dead. I figured you'd be less broody now that you got your mate back.”

“Also not what I want you to be calling her, Lasina,” he said, trying not to snap at her. But it was hard not to think about what Shepard had said earlier- joking or no, that simple 'you're mine' had made him feel better than he had in a long, long time.

“Okay, okay. Jeesh. Stingy, stingy, stingy as ever. You-” She paused as a figure zeroed in on them and started pacing up the stairs, eyes locked on them.

Hassan wasn't what Garrus would call a friend, but he was a reliable contact. Garrus wasn't in a position to be choosy any more. Not with all the bridges he'd burned. Better not to burn any more. They shared a nod as he approached.

“Hey, Vakarian. It's been a while since I've seen you. How's it going?”

“I can't complain. How's C-Sec?” Garrus asked.

They kept up the banal small talk, a data pad eventually passed to him under discreet cover. He slipped it under the table and brought it up, and despite bracing himself he still wasn't ready for the surge of anger and hatred that welled up when the picture on the tablet flickered to life. If it weren't for Las hanging onto him tightly, he probably would have lost his cool.

It was a half profile, and he couldn't see the guy he was talking to, but yeah- that was Sidonis.

“That your guy?” Hassan asked, quieter.

“Yeah,” Garrus said, tersely.

“Rest of the information I got is on there. Good luck,” Hassan said.

They shared louder, more banal farewells, and then Hassan wandered off to the bar. Silently he and Lasina looked over the information- there wasn't much of it. Last seen in the company of someone called Fade. Weird code name, but in this case he supposed it made sense.

“The traitor bastard's trying to disappear,” Lasina hissed, voice low and vicious.

Garrus felt about the same. “We're not going to give him the damn chance.”

“So how do we find this Fade guy? Do you have any connections higher up in C-Sec left that might know about this?”

“I'm not exactly...popular there,” Garrus said reluctantly, lifting the datapad. “You just saw about how far my reach extends right now.”

“What about Shepard?” Lasina asked.

He made a dubious noise, shrugging his shoulders. His instinctive reaction was a violent denial, but he didn't need to snap at Las. No way in hell he wanted Shepard mixed up in this.

“What?”

“Just...would really prefer not to get her involved,” Garrus said.

“Okay, so we let Sidonis get aw-”

“No,” he interrupted harshly, fingers tightening on the datapad. “That's not a damn option.”

Lasina shook his arm lightly. “Shepard is a Spectre. She has connections. Is it really that hard to ask her for help?”

“It's not- I know she would help me. She already asked me to stop leaving her out of the loop, but-” He struggled to find a way to phrase it, this thing in his brain that wanted to keep her away from his hunt. Away from this side of himself. “I just don't want to drag her down into this with me.”

“I don't know Shepard personally, but I kind of think she'd be annoyed if you said that to her face.”

“You're right, you don't know her. She'd be more than annoyed,” Garrus said, grudgingly. He glanced down at the datapad again, pensively. “She'd be angry as hell.”

“Come on. We _owe_ it to them all to see this through to the end,” Las said, clutching his arm.

She was right. He didn't have a choice. Damn it, he really wanted to get this done without dragging Faith into it.

But he couldn't risk Sidonis getting away.

“Fine. Let's go find her.”

Hopefully he could convince her not to get too involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Here is my treat for you.
> 
> Chapter was getting too bulky for my taste, so I split it, as I am wont to do.


	25. Chapter 25

It was nice to see David, now that Shepard didn't feel shackled by her cybernetics any more.

He seemed to have noticed the difference in her behavior, but wasn't prying in front of Mom and the kiddo. Later, maybe. She'd like a proper heart to heart about her situation with someone Alliance- his guidance in trying to get out of this in the end would be invaluable. Mom didn't really do big picture stuff, and that was fine.

Emi seemed uncomfortable in front of both of them, fidgeting, staring at the table.

Faith wasn't surprised- David wasn't much for kids, and Mom could be super intimidating. She could tell Mom was trying, though, the small questions were attempts at engaging Emi, even if she didn't realize it. Faith did her best to soften it.

“Are you doing well in school?” Mom asked, glancing up from her menu.

“I'm trying,” Emi mumbled, finger scrolling the menu fretfully.

“Em's making great progress,” Faith said, smoothly interjecting. “But more important than that, she's doing her best, right Mini?”

Garrus' nickname for the kid just slipped out, but it seemed to help. Emi brightened, just a little, head lifting. “Yeah. I read good, but math's harder.”

“Well, not good,” Mom corrected, and then blinked at Faith's warning stare.

Rather than bring it up in front of the kid, she glanced sidelong. “Emi, did you figure out what you want?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, chin dropping again.

“Just go ahead and select it, and then you can play some games until the food's here, huh?” Faith said, nodding across the way at the little arcade alcove. “If you want to play the prize games, just grab a cred chit and I'll fill it up for you.”

Emi made her selection deftly, and then slipped from the chair. “Thanks, mom,” she said, and then retreated.

Faith watched her go, worried. Garrus had reassured her a little, but the scene at the boutique still bothered her. The kiddo really had been genuinely upset. What the hell had that bastard done to make her feel like that?

She'd gotten the waiter to turn off the prices on Emi's menu, and she hoped it'd helped.

“Mama, Emi wasn't able to go to school for years because she was abandoned by her bio-mom. It's better not to correct her about things that aren't important,” Faith said bluntly, glancing back at mom.

It took a second, but finally the Captain blinked and nodded her head. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize how it might come off. Thank you, pumpkin.”

Faith smiled, nodding and glancing between them. “It's fine. I just didn't want to say that in front of her. She's even more sensitive than I used to be.”

“We've only spoken three times, I don't know Emi well. I wasn't in any position to care for a child...”

“I know, Mom. I don't blame you.”

Because Faith had never been honest.

“I feel at fault, Faith,” David said, finally speaking up. He folded his hands together on the table. “I thought I was honoring your last wishes.”

“I was actually dead, so how could I blame you?” she said, finding the humor in it with a grim sort of acceptance. “We're gonna figure it out. I may have kidnapped her, though, so I need to find somewhere that if that man is foolish enough to try and use the law against me, they won't care.”

Both Anderson and Mom stared at her blankly, but the former turned worried.

Mom gave a long sigh, reaching up to brush back her short, silvering ginger hair. It was upsetting how much two years had changed, threads of white had turned to thin streaks, and the corners of her eyes were folded in wrinkles. It made her feel the loss all over again.

“He has a stable home. A stable life. A good place for a child to grow up,” Mom said, voice confused and tired. She dropped her hands to the table. “I wish I could understand this grudge you have against your father. Why go to these lengths?”

She'd come in here ready for war, determined to be honest, but over a decade of lies didn't just fade away like that. They clung to her, trying to drag her back down into silence. Damn it, she wanted Garrus here. Garrus...

He was the first person she'd told, and he'd been angry for her, believed her, fought beside her.

No, Mom would believe her.

“I hate to tell you like this.”

“It's all right, Faith,” David said quietly, sonorous voice comforting. “In your own time.”

She fixed her eyes on Mom's, extending her hands slowly across the table. Eventually hers were taken in a strong grip, fingers curling around her palms. They stared at each other.

This wasn't for her, it was for Emi.

“Mom, he hurt me. When I was younger, he hurt me. Physically. I never told anyone.”

Silence reigned over the table, but for once Faith didn't hide from it. She kept admitting it, again and again. Every time except the first time, it'd been for Emi, and that made it survivable.

“I don't really want to discuss it, or hear- I don't know, apologies, or hear how sorry people are. That's not the point. The point is I did what I had to do to protect Emi, because like it or not she's decided I'm her mom, so I have a responsibility.”

There was a long moment of silence, and she knew David wouldn't break it. She just held onto Mom's hands, finally risking a look in her eyes and an apologetic smile. Mom's shock had faded into a quiet, almost resigned look that hurt.

Faith knew she wouldn't hear any self-blame, any apologies, or any of the things that people instinctively went to in self-defense. Not from Mom. Especially not when Faith had asked her not to- it was one of the things she loved most about Mom.

She might not always understand, but she tried to.

“Do you know if he may have done anything similar to Emi?” she finally asked, cautiously.

“There are...things that are making me think he may have. At the very least she was neglected and maybe emotionally abused, but- I don't know. She's talking to Amanda now, and Doctor Chakwas found a specialist pediatrician to see tomorrow morning. If there's anything- I'm starting a paper trail,” Faith said firmly.

“Legally there's little we can do for you without evidence,” David said, apologetically. “If contacted by Earth authorities, the Alliance does work with them, unfortunately. There have been off-world parental kidnapping cases before that have gone through the system.”

“Yeah,” Faith said, grateful for the practical. Practical was what she needed right now. “I can't have her stay here, I know that. I told him not to pursue it or it'd go very bad for him, but I don't know if he'll ignore me or not.”

“It's better to plan for the worst,” Mom said.

“That's my thinking,” Faith agreed, and then let out a soft sigh, drumming her hands on the table. “I can afford to hire someone if I can get access to my bank account again, so that's not a huge issue. It's a matter of finding someone- and somewhere reliable and trustworthy.”

“You're still legally dead,” David said, giving her an eyeing that was both knowing and long-suffering. “Somehow. Despite the fact that it _should_ have been corrected.”

“It was handy at the time. I'll get it fixed now,” Faith said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “I know this isn't within the realm of Spectre authority, but if Saren could use his to do literal war crime level horrific bullshit, I can use mine to keep my kid safe. I'm not above throwing my weight around.”

“Fix your status and I'll handle the bureaucracy of getting your Alliance-linked issues sorted. Stopping the survivor benefits, re-opening your bank account, all of it. Just be aware that your current associations have left your status in flux, Faith. Avoid Earth from here on in. I can't promise the military police won't come looking for you,” David instructed, to her relief.

“You're a lifesaver. Absolutely, yeah. That's basically what Admiral Hackett told me, too. We've been in touch, he needs my help with some things,” Faith said, smiling ruefully. “At least he's still pragmatic.”

“Steven may still trust you, but that doesn't mean all of his people will,” Mom cautioned.

“I'll have an assistant compile a list of inhabited planets that would ignore Alliance authority,” David said, thoughtfully. “I can't guarantee all of them will be human-friendly. Or that their local laws will look kindly on what you're doing, either.”

“You may have spoken to him, but I'll contact Marcus as well,” Mom said, frowning to herself.

“Mom- I don't want you to have to talk to that asshole,” Faith protested. Shit, that wasn't what she wanted, at all.

“I'm respecting your wishes as much as I can right now, but Faith, I have to insist,” Mom said, voice steely. “This is my granddaughter as well, and my daughter. I have just as much responsibility as you, if not more.”

“Granddaughter?”

The small question came from behind Mom, on the opposite side of the booth. Faith wasn't sure why she was surprised. Of course the kid was eavesdropping. Stifling a sigh, she just hoped she hadn't been listening to the stuff in the beginning.

“If you wanted to listen you could have just come and sat down,” Faith told Emi, trying to sound relaxed and not annoyed. “Come on, no sneaking.”

Reluctantly, Emi slid down from the other booth and crept around back to her seat next to Faith. She looked from face to face, like she was trying to make sure Faith was telling the truth. Mom kept her eyes on the kid, expression neutral.

“Well, aren't I Faith's mother?”

Emi just nodded, staring at her cautiously.

“And Faith is your mother. So that would make me your grandmother. But, you may call me whatever you are comfortable with.”

“I thought you didn't like me,” Emi admitted timidly.

“Well, I don't know you,” Mom pointed out, and Faith hid a wince.

Much to her relief, Emi got a thoughtful look on her face, and then nodded. “I guess.”

“I apologize for not trying harder to get to know you. Would you like to try to get to know each other now?”

Emi glanced at Faith, and then lifted her shoulders in a small, defensive shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”

Relieved that it hadn't gone any worse, somehow Faith still felt drained. It didn't get any easier to talk about. Maybe because she still hadn't dealt with it in her own head, hadn't started processing it all. The nightmares sure didn't help with that.

But hell, when did she have time to deal with anything when it felt like her life was one crisis after another?

At least she could try and find some stability for Emi.

Garrus parted ways with Lasina so they could pick up their respective people.

He'd been directed to the edge of Zakera ward, pretty close to where that old asari eatery had been. There was a different restaurant there now. He wondered what had happened to the place- a lot of unwritten stories like that around Citadel these days. Plenty people had moved off-station after the attack.

Faith was waiting outside of an ice cream shop, leaning against a table with her arms crossed. She was watching the interior through a window, but as he approached her attention shifted to him, and she managed a smile. It was faint.

Hopefully the talk with her mom and the Admiral hadn't gone too badly.

Approaching, he couldn't help the worried once-over. “Hey...”

“Sorry. Hug please,” Faith replied tiredly, slumping against his side when he paused next to her.

Ignoring a disapproving look from a turian passer-by, he wrapped his arm around Faith and supported her. He still felt a little guilty about the time he'd refused to hold her hand on the presidium, even though it felt like it had happened forever ago. Garrus wasn't going to make that mistake again. “Rough talk, Trouble?”

“Mmh, it went as well as it could have, but...still a lot. I'll parse it later. Right now I just need hugs and to figure out how we're gonna do this shopping thing,” Faith said, lips quirking up as Emi left the shop, smile more natural and less tired. He knew her well enough to know it was probably a front for the kid. “You got all the junk you wanted? Jeez, any ice cream under all those sprinkles?”

Emi glanced down into her cup of sprinkles. “Yeah, you sure you don't want any?”

Faith smiled and shook her head. “Doc wants me to go easy on the non-fermented dairy.”

“They got two kinds of dextro, Garrus. Chocolate and honey.”

“Aw, none of the fun stuff,” Faith said sympathetically. “I know you like chocolate, though. You want an ice cream, sweetheart? My treat. I still feel bad you missed the junk food.”

Emi gave Garrus a narrow look at the 'sweetheart'.

“Yeah, that actually sounds good. If you don't mind,” Garrus said, and then very deliberately gave Faith a squeeze before releasing her. Emi glared at him.

“I offered, didn't I? You guys just hang on for a second.”

Faith went back into the shop, and Garrus folded his arms. Emi pulled her spoon out of her mouth and dug out another bite of ice cream, shaking her head. He had to fight not to laugh.

“Now what did I do?” he asked, as if he hadn't been antagonizing her.

“Nothing,” she said pointedly.

“Oh, I get it. You're not saying you're not upset, you're saying you're upset because I've 'done nothing',” Garrus replied, chuckling. “Have you given me a chance?”

“You coulda got flowers on the way over here.”

“What, and made her carry them while we shopped? What if they gave her an allergic reaction?”

Emi frowned. “Okay, but-”

“Mini. Relax.”

She gave a faint 'hmph' and jabbed at her ice cream with the spoon.

He wasn't going to admit he was still trying to do research before he went and made any big gestures- hell, what if he screwed it up and did something wrong? No, better just to figure this out at his own speed. He didn't need to give the kid any more ammo.

“We're gonna meet some friends of mine.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Yeah, we worked together when I was on Omega.”

The shop doors slid back open.

Faith returned, passing him a cup of ice cream with a spoon stuck into it. He took it from her, not minding a bit when she immediately leaned back against his side again. Still, he couldn't eat and hang onto hers. When he offered her his arm, she tucked her hand into it and smiled up at him. A good compromise.

Funny to think about how easy it was- and how impossible it'd been before.

Maybe that was why every time she was nearby he found himself reaching for her.

“Dorks,” Emi said, and stuck her spoon in her mouth.

“Takes one to know one!” Shepard said cheerfully, not in the least bit concerned.

He noticed as they made their way together that Faith was keeping a close eye on the kid. Once or twice he noticed a worried look, but the nudge he gave her just got him a smile and shake of her head. Well, not like he could ask her about it in front of Emi anyways.

On alert as he was, he noticed all the looks they were getting. Hopefully Faith didn't. She was having enough stress today without worrying about that. Hell, it'd only been two years ago when a group of human protestors had attacked a human-turian couple. Things didn't change that quickly.

If someone was going to be a bastard and throw insults, they weren't going to stop just because they had a kid with them.

Well, Emi could probably throw some insults right back.

“How's your ice cream?” Faith asked, pulling him out of his wary survey of the pedestrians they passed by.

Glancing down, he realized he hadn't really been paying attention to it. It was almost gone. “Well, I must like it,” he said, and chuckled at her puzzled look. “In my head a little. Thanks, by the way.”

“Mmh. I still have trouble with the idea that I can just _do_ stuff like this now. Only half the menu was blacked out today at the restaurant! Unprecedented freedom,” Faith laughed. “I spent half the meal nervous, but I feel fine. So strange and new...”

Garrus smiled, enjoying the content look on her face. Emi was right- her allergies had probably kept Faith from more stuff than he even realized. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Well, Karin wasn't breathing down my neck, so I got to have fish, so yeah,” Faith laughed with a wrinkle of her nose. “I know I need to expand my palate, but I think it's just hard because I'm getting used to so much right now, so quickly.”

“Slowing things down means risking you getting sick more,” he reminded her, remembering all too well how miserable she'd been when the base on Omega had been attacked. How he'd felt when Riva told him she'd collapsed once she'd gotten them to safety. He'd nearly wondered if that was going to be the last time he saw her.

It almost had been.

“I know. You know, sometimes I just wanna complain, not listen to you be sensible.”

“Shepard, I'm always sensible, except when I'm following you into hell.”

“Hmmh,” she said, but he could see the pleased smile on her lips.

At the shop a very excited Riva and Lasina were waiting for them.

It seemed like Faith had found a place more suited to her needs- no physical clothes on display, so no prices to be seen. Just a catalog and a fitting room. The storefront was so small that he and Lasina stayed outside the archway. Probably for the best. Not like it was difficult to hear what was going on inside.

Despite the lack of warning, it seemed like Riva had come prepared.

Amused, he listened to her chattering away at the very dubious Emi about colors and fits and who knew what else. He might as well have had his translator turned off with how much he understood. This was a whole side of her he never knew existed- it was a little unsettling to hear his former security specialist discussing something called 'skin undertones'. Whatever that was.

“This is so weird,” Garrus confessed. “Are we sure she's turian?”

“Riva's been binge watching this human fashion show on the extranet where they do like...designing challenges and stuff. Apparently clothes are a huge deal in human culture. I had no idea.”

“I guess you need to get more in touch with your heritage. Why don't you go get yourself a fancy dress?” Garrus teased her.

Las laughed. “The amount of clothing I own is infinitely larger than what you have. Because you have nothing. Under-armor does not count.”

“I have a dress uniform,” he said defensively.

“Where?”

“...on Palaven.”

Faith's bright, crackling laugh drew his attention back to the shop, and he watched her with a smile. It was good to see her relaxed. Everything was so complicated for her right now, he wanted her to have these moments to just take a deep breath for a second. They didn't have long, but hopefully it would help.

“Goddess, you are so _domestic_ with her,” Lasina said with a laugh.

Garrus blinked, pulling his attention away from the chaos and back to her. “I hadn't even thought of that. What if she thinks I'm boring? Am I being boring?”

“Ar- Garrus,” Lasina laughed, high and amused.

“You're the one that said it,” he said defensively.

“What the hell is going on with you?” she giggled.

“I'm trying to- I'm trying to figure this out. I'm still gathering intel, and-”

Lasina's laughing just got worse. She shook a finger at him, golden eyes crinkling. “Gathering intel?”

Garrus was feeling attacked. “The kid may have made some points that made me aware I didn't know how...humans did things, and I'm trying to do some research. Why is it a bad thing to be prepared?”

“Fuck humans. Do you know how Shepard does things? She's a person, not a species.”

“Yeah, but it's more complicated than that,” he insisted, frustrated. “I just need to do things right this time. Last time it was...rough.”

“I remember,” Lasina said, smile softening as she nudged his arm. “I didn't mean anything by it. You seem a lot happier. It's good. It's just funny going from two years fighting a damn guerrilla gang war with my broody, miserable pal Archangel to watching him go shopping with his 'don't call her my girlfriend' and her daughter.”

Wasn't worth fighting with her over the titling, as long as she didn't do it in front of Faith.

“It's weird for all of us,” he said, looking over his shoulder. Faith was standing behind the pair now, watching with a smile, and not interjecting. He knew Faith- he knew she'd be escaping from the shopping the instant she got a chance. “Faith didn't have to step up. She didn't agree to the adoption, they put it through after she died. But still, she didn't hesitate for even a second.”

“You sound a little in awe of her,” Lasina teased.

“People think that it's easy for her to make the 'right' choice. But I know it's not.” Garrus chuckled. “You know, growing up they don't tell you heroes have to fight to be good- as a kid I would have thought that made her less heroic.”

“Well, kids are dumb. You asked her about helping us out yet?”

“I'll get to it,” Garrus said. And, of course with unfortunate timing, that was when Faith left the shop. No way Lasina would let it go now.

“Hey. I escaped,” Faith said, hiding next to him, back against the translucent wall. “They're terrifying together. I had to escape before they started trying to dress me up.”

“Yeah, best to stay out of the splash zone,” Lasina agreed.

Faith blinked, and then peeked over at her. “The- have you been to Earth before?”

“No, and I actually don't know what it means. My dad just used to say it a lot,” Las said, shrugging her shoulders with a grin.

“Ah. I'm not interrupting friend chat time, am I?”

“No,” Garrus assured her, unable to ignore the significant look Las was giving him. He had to say it, though, or she probably would. “I need to ask a favor, star.”

“Anything, you know that,” Faith assured him instantly.

“Our guy we're hunting used someone called 'Fade' to make him disappear, he's apparently a known fixer and racketeer, but my contact doesn't have much information on him. Different department. I'm afraid if I spend too much time hunting information, I'll lose this chance.”

“I need to talk to Captain Bailey anyways, and if he doesn't know, I'll have him escalate me until someone does,” Faith said without a pause to think, head tilting to the side. “Tonight, or tomorrow morning after I take Emi to the doctor? The appointment's pretty early.”

“I hate to say tonight, but-”

“Tonight it is,” Faith agreed easily. “I'll set Emi up with some video games and movies when we get back to the ship. We've still got some junk food left. It's not like EDI won't inform me if anything goes wrong.”

“Thank you, star,” he said, instinctively wrapping his arm around her as she leaned against his side, smiling up at him. He was starting to get used to having her there. At least with them stopped he could keep an eye on people passing by more easily. A human woman approaching from the north glanced up from her omni-tool and noticed them.

The instant she saw them, he saw the revulsion on her face.

Great.

“I know my thanks comes with less benefits, but I'm grateful too,” Lasina joked.

Faith laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “The benefits _are_ pretty nice.”

“Disgusting,” he heard the woman mutter as she passed by- obviously pitched for them to hear.

As he was starting to draw himself up, Faith lifted her voice and called lazily after her, “sounds like someone's jealous. You should try getting railed by a turian some time, it might be good for you.”

Lasina immediately started cackling, lifting a hand to Shepard. With a smirk, Faith leaned around him and slapped it. The hand on her mid-back that had been pulling away stalled, and he pressed it back against her. No, he didn't need to try and 'protect' her.

The woman shot Faith a venomous look, but seemed too intimidated to do anything but retreat up the street.

Garrus was still trying to mentally recover when Riva called out for help from the shop. Still laughing, Lasina waved off Shepard and ducked inside. Faith slumped back against his side, lips curling up into a smirk.

“ _Faith_ ,” he said, not sure if he was warning her or laughing with her.

Somewhere in the middle.

“What? I could take her if she started anything,” Faith replied in her most innocent voice, but the wicked little smirk just deepened. “Or are you just mad 'cause now you're thinking about it? Hmm, bet you are.”

Well...

There may have been some memories involving a very soft, naked freckled body stretched out against his chest while she moaned his name, but- definitely not the place to be dwelling on them, and-

“Definitely not with _her_ ,” he said.

“I feel bad, sometimes,” she admitted, smile fading away. Concerned with the shift in mood, he nudged her side. “I just wish it was easier. Sorry. Making you wait like this isn't really fair to you, and-”

“Hey,” he interrupted her, hand shifting down to her hip, pulling her closer as he lowered his voice intimately. “You're worth any wait.”

Faith smiled, slow and lazy, big brown eyes soft. They sure were pretty. “That was awfully sexy of you, Vakarian.”

He decided to push his luck. “You know, Shepard, you've got the sweetest eyes I've ever seen.”

Faith popped up on her toes, and her forehead nudged his, the soft contact sending a pleased warmth to the pit of his stomach. “You gunning for a handjob in the fitting room? Because I'm game.”

For a second, he got the stupidest thought in his head- if she was being serious, would turning her down mean he actually _was_ boring to her? But...no, she couldn't be serious, Emi was _right there_. Right? Would it be strange if he as-

Faith started laughing, cheeks tinting pink as she shook her head. “Your _face_.”

“Maybe I liked it better when you _couldn't_ read it,” he replied, grinning at her soft 'hah'. Well, if she was going to tease him, he could tease her right back. “Maybe next time, star.”

“So you might be down...in other company, huh? I guess that's a good thing to know. Also good to know that getting insulted by xenophobes gets me a pretty damn hot ego boost.”

His hand caught her chin, finger and thumb sliding along her jaw. She was so soft. “I don't want you to feel like I'm ashamed of you.”

“This is what I was ignoring before,” Faith admitted, leaning into his touch with a rueful smile. “I guess if we're going to really do this, we have to deal with the reality of what it is- a relationship some people won't approve of. Especially considering that I'm a pretty public persona, even though I hate the fact that I am.”

“We don't _have_ to-”

“Don't you start with me,” she threatened.

“I think I just said it because it felt like one of us needed to,” he said with a chuckle. “I don't want to hide, either.”

“And when the extranet fills up with 'Shepard is a dirty alien fucker' propaganda and outrage, I guess I'll just have to say 'yep, and you can deal with it',” she said, taking his hand when he offered it to her, fingers threading through his. “I'm not going to sacrifice my private life so they can feel more comfortable with who I am.”

Which was fair, but it wasn't just about them. It couldn't be, not with her being a 'public persona'.

“I don't want people to use it to discredit you- that's what I'm really worried about,” he said, shaking his head. “The Reaper threat...”

“And did they need my personal life to discredit me before, sweetheart? No. They just called me crazy,” she reminded him, voice gentling when he reflexively tensed at that. “Hey. It's okay. It will always happen. There will always be people who find it inconvenient to listen- look at me right now? The Council gave me the bare fucking minimum in the middle of a damn crisis, but we'll make it work. Okay?”

“You always do,” he said.

“ _We_ always do.”

Damn was she good at making him believe things like that. Their eyes held, and he felt the last of his anger and frustration fading away, replaced by confidence. Yeah. It was all going to be all right.

Emi's exasperated shout from inside interrupted the moment. “Oh my god, can you two just _stop_ the PDA?”

Garrus wasn't in the least bit surprised when Faith's response was to pull him down and kiss him.

The galaxy- and the kid- were gonna have to get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for every hit, kudos, and comment. <3 They really make me happy.


	26. Chapter 26

Emi had been watching Faith expectantly since the packages had been delivered.

Despite Riva's enthusiastic best efforts, it still wasn't that much; probably not enough to fill up the copy of Faith's Alliance duffle that Emi had claimed. The kid loved the bag, and Faith didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't the original. It didn't really matter.

Emi wanted it, so it was all hers.

“You're not going to open anything?” Faith asked after leaving the shower, observing the kid sitting cross-legged on the bed, sitting in front of the unopened parcel that had been delivered. “Pick out some pajamas to wear. They're clothes, they're for wearing.”

“I got too many,” Emi said hesitantly.

Faith finished drying her hair, and tossed the wet towel into the laundry. “Eh. I still think you should have gotten that cool jacket, but you know what you want best. You and Riva have good eyes, you picked out really great things. Maybe next time I need clothes I'll have you do it.”

Mostly because Faith wouldn't want to do it herself.

“Maybe,” Emi said, but didn't open the box, staring at it

Well, fine.

Wandering over, Shepard flipped it open and pulled out the parcel on the top, unwrapping it unceremoniously. Emi gave a protesting noise, but Faith ignored her. It wasn't pajamas, so she just haphazardly threw the dress on the ground and picked up the next one.

“Mom!”

“I'm helping,” Faith said innocently, flinging a couple pairs of pants over her shoulder. “I'm unpacking!” A jacket followed the pants, falling in a heap of black and silver.

“Mom, stop it!” Emi demanded, but as another dress went fluttering over her head in various shades of blue, she couldn't stop the giggle.

“Can't give 'em back now!” Faith retorted, throwing a mess of multicolored clothes and packaging over her head. Nothing pink, despite Riva's best efforts. “Too late, sucker!”

Finding the pajamas and flinging them into Emi's face turned it into a brief fight in which Faith was more than happy to cede the field. The kid could have her victory. It seemed to help, cuz Em went to shower and change without further grumbling, and Faith took the opportunity to put all the new clothes in her duffle.

The nose ring plan hadn't panned out due to the amount of work it required. She'd nudged a little, but Em had stood firm, so that was fine. Em was allowed to change her mind, Faith was just afraid it was another money thing.

At least the haircut had been a success, though Faith kind of regretted not getting hers done, too. The problem was, the shorter it got, the curlier it got. She didn't have the kind of time to maintain that properly.

Grabbing a comb, she ran it through her wet hair a few times to make sure the tangles were gone, and then plaited it neatly. She still had work to do. And while she should be worried about Garrus, and this mission of his, her mind was far too occupied with the Emi question. Damn it, she couldn't delay their mission.

Leaving her at Citadel with a nanny was about the worst and most stop-gap solution she could think of, but it was becoming more and more likely it'd have to be done. No way she was taking Emi too far out of Citadel space right now. Despite the red tape he was bound with, she knew David would step in for her if things got complicated and she couldn't be there right away.

Maybe that was the solution for right this second.

Once Emi finished and was settled in for the night playing the new Turian Warfare with Joker and a pile of snacks, Faith left her to do the rounds.

Checking in with everyone currently on the ship helped ground her, and cleared her head a little. It was important to see what everyone else was wrestling with. There were always complications. Chatting with Crewman Rolston about his family and his concerns helped remind her that she wasn't alone in this.

Other people were trying to balance family and their mission, too.

Plus, he helped her figure out how to set Emi up for extranet school, too, so that was helpful. Miranda was her last stop before Garrus, but she seemed a little pensive and withdrawn. They were doing better, but not quite there yet. Faith got that.

She still had hopes they could hash things out, though. Miranda understanding about Emi's situation had been unexpected. But...well, maybe Faith should have been more open-minded, instead of assuming. People were people. A job could be left, a bad order could be refused, and a person- even as deeply-entrenched in Cerberus as Miranda was- could do the right thing when it counted.

Finishing up her check-in with everyone onboard, Shepard swung by the battery last.

Predictably, the guy himself was leaning over a console, working away. Amused, she crossed her arms as he tipped his head in acknowledgment, hands still busy. When the door closed behind her, she glanced at it, laughing when the indicator turned red.

“Locking me in?”

Instead of answering, Garrus half-turned towards her, leaning a hip against the console as he extended a hand to her. “Come here.”

Unfolding her arms, Shepard approached with a smile. “What? We've got to go.”

“We'll go in a minute. I just wanted to say- I don't really want you to ah- get tangled up in this. I figured just the three of us could handle it without bothering you, but-”

Unamused, Faith tried not to let her voice get too sharp. “So you don't want me along. You think that's important for me to know, huh?”

When he reached for her elbow and drew her in, she went begrudgingly, one foot dragging. Garrus gave a faint snort of amusement, shifting his grip.

His hand stroked down the outside of her arm, soothingly. “I'm proud of what I did on Omega, Shepard. And hell, I don't mind the reputation. But I still don't feel like I was proud of who I was when I was doing it, and I just- I just don't want you to meet that guy.”

Shepard relented, leaning in against him. They'd done enough bickering and pushing each other away for a while. “Garrus, I care about the you that you are, and 'that guy' is part of it. Are you different? Yeah, you are. But you're still Garrus, and I've got no right to judge you for the space between now and then- I didn't live it. You're not judging me for being a corpse barely patched-”

“Hey, hey hey,” he interrupted her, hands lifting to cradle her cheeks. Faith felt bad he sounded a little panicked. “Okay, okay. You don't have to go that far to make a point. I get it. I'm sorry.”

It'd just come out, she hadn't meant to say that, but at least it had gotten her point across. “We're both different, but you're still my partner. I don't want you to do this without me. I can live with your internal scars if you can live with my...” Self-consciously she lifted a hand to her cheek, touching the one that peeked out from under his finger. “My actual ones.”

“I've got some of the actual ones, too, star,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.

“Yeah, but these? They...” She admitted it in a quiet rush, in the small space between them. “They make me afraid it's not me.”

“It's you,” he reassured her, pulling her hand away before her fingers could dig too much harder at the scar. “No one else would be this much of a pain in my ass.”

That made her smile, reluctantly. “Hmm.”

He tapped the prominent freckle on her left cheek, where a dimple would be. “They just turn your stars into constellations.”

“Smooth,” she sighed, letting him cajole her out of her bad mood. Despite the armor, shifting to a hug helped, too, her cheek cuddling against the curve where his cowl met his chest. His arms were so secure. “Very smooth, Vakarian.”

He chuckled, the weight of his forehead resting against the top of her head. “I do what I can. Am I...doing okay? With the physical contact and all.”

Curious, she pulled back and gave him a blink. “What do you mean? You haven't hurt me or anything...”

“No, I mean- I know it's more important to you guys than for us. You told me humans literally die without it, so...”

“Is that why we were getting dirty looks from turians?” she asked, and then laughed at his slight nod. “Oh, I didn't realize. I'm sorry, I don't want to push you into-”

He interrupted her, the backs of his fingers trailing down her spine, a slow caress. “I like...touching you. And it's not like I haven't observed humans in my time, Shepard. I know this is normal for you guys. After how before was- I don't want you to feel that again, us being isolated from each other like that.”

“You're doing great,” she confirmed with a smile, nodding her head up at him. “But if you need more space, just tell me, okay? If it ever gets to be too much. I'll understand. My mom doesn't like being touched a lot, so I know not to take offense.”

“Will do,” he agreed easily.

When she popped up on her toes and kissed him, it was brief and affectionate. But as she did, his arm slid around her waist, tempting her to linger. It wasn't like his mouth was completely inflexible, and while it didn't feel much like kissing a human, it was still pretty damn nice.

She was starting to relax enough to curiously trace the upper edge of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, but the contact made him jerk back from her. He managed to stall the violent motion before she was pushed away, but it left Faith confused, blinking up at him. Garrus cleared his throat, the hand resting lightly on her back flattening in quick reassurance.

“Sorry. That's...different.”

“Bad? I didn't realize that might seem weird, it's pretty standard for us.”

Garrus chuckled, still a little strained. “Not bad, just didn't want to hurt you. Also not something I've ever really- I'm used to- you know. Keeping teeth away from the soft parts.”

It was always a little funny when he'd get flustered and not quite know what to say. The verbal equivalent of a blush, maybe. Maybe she was an asshole, because it just made her want to tease him even more.

“But I'm soft everywhere,” she said, lazily breathy.

“You can't _say_ things like that, Trouble. We've got a mission to handle.” Garrus bumped his nose against hers, and then pulled back, both hands sliding down her arms.

“We?” she asked. “Not gonna use me for my contacts and then ditch me?”

He gave a sigh, head rolling to the side as he briefly avoided her eyes. His voice was full of humor, though. “No. You were right, I was wrong- just keep it to yourself. I've got to maintain my reputation.”

“Mister Always Right, hmm? Pretty sure that's _not_ your reputation, Cowboy.”

“Only because I'm modest,” he said like he wasn't one of the cockiest bastards she knew.

Faith snorted. “Okay, okay. Should we go get armed?”

“Probably best to get it over with,” he agreed, releasing her and turning back to the console. The door beeped as it was unlocked. “This is a weight on my shoulders, and I don't feel like I'm focused enough for our mission right now with it hanging over me.”

“Is it on your shoulders or hanging over you?” she joked, and then laughed at his confused look. “Oh, bad translation. Got it. C'mon.”

“Sure, I navigate my way through a thousand bizarre human idioms, but the instant I use one myself it's a 'bad translation'.”

“It translated your idiom into human idioms that didn't go together,” Faith explained, laughing at his disgusted sigh. “Sorry, it's just a fact that any idioms turians might have, we probably have at least three that mean the same thing.”

“Shepard, what is wrong with your language?”

“So, so many things,” she laughed, trailing after him as they left the battery. Keeping a casual, friendly, distance, they headed for the elevator. Although she'd already greeted everyone, Faith still nodded to every glance sent their way. Discreetly she tongued the inside of her lower lip as they walked. The sensitive skin there, and the tip of her tongue felt little prickly, but not too bad.

That was pretty promising.

Hoping the minor reaction wouldn't show on the surface, she kept her voice casual. “How are you feeling about the crew?”

“Ah- good?” Garrus replied, thoughtfully. “Nobody giving me any trouble, if that's what you're worried about.”

“Well, Tali isn't here to show them that not all dextros are horrible assholes, so I'm right to be a little concerned.”

Garrus scoffed. “Are you trying to imply that Tali is more charming and friendly than I am?”

Leaning against the back of the elevator, she crossed her arms and smirked at him as he stared down at her, bright blue eyes intent. “Implying? No. Saying it straight out.”

“Hmm, considering _I'm_ the one who charmed the famous Commander Shepard, I'm not sure that's true.”

“Well, maybe if Tali had been interested...” Faith teased, sauntering out of the elevator with a distracting little hip-sway.

“Excuse me?” he drawled slowly from behind her, but she knew he wouldn't tease her any more about it right now.

The armory doors slid open, and Faith lifted a hand to Jacob, heading for her locker with a more businesslike gait. Jacob returned the gesture, glancing up from his work, and repeated it to Garrus as well.

“Got those upgrades in I ordered,” Jacob said.

“Great,” Faith said. They'd agreed they'd go armored just in case, so she started tugging it on.

“Speaking of upgrades...” Garrus said significantly.

“I'm working on it,” Jacob said, just as mysteriously.

Pulling back, she glanced between them suspiciously. “What?”

Garrus pulled out his Volkov and looked it over. “Nothing.”

“Vakarian...” When he turned away from her, Faith sighed and rolled her eyes. Fine. Finishing strapping into her armor, she grabbed down her pistols. When she went for the Collector rifle she'd nicked, Garrus cleared his throat loudly. Glancing sidelong, she narrowed her eyes. “What.”

“Could you not bring the evil gun? For me?”

“I'm-” When he tipped his head with a cross of his arms, she grumbled, slamming it back into the locker. “You're such a baby.”

“Sorry I don't want you to get infested by weird bug tech.”

“Mordin said it's safe!”

“I like Mordin, but are you gonna trust the mad scientist over your gun guys?” Jacob asked, not bothering to hide his faint smile.

“Yeah, Shepard, are you going to?” Garrus repeated, but she could hear the taunting in his voice.

He'd brought this on himself.

Ignoring her shotgun, she reached past it and grabbed her sniper rifle with both hands. She hadn't used the thing in ages, but how rusty could she be? She'd always gotten good marksman scores.

The instant Garrus saw it he was scoffing, and Jacob barely stifled a snicker.

“Excuse me?”

“You're excused,” she said coolly, strapping the rifle to her back.

“Shepard, I-” Garrus paused when she gave him a blank, cold look, and then chuckled and lowered his voice. “I just don't want to _embarrass_ you.”

Faith gently patted his arm. “Oh, Garrus, you're always an embarrassment to me.”

Jacob coughed.

“Well all right then,” Garrus drawled, locker sliding shut. “You're going to regret this.”

As much as she was hoping they'd have a chance to square off...

“We're probably not going to see any fighting anyways,” Faith dismissed, closing her locker as well.

She really shouldn't have said that.

Garrus wasn't sure if he was annoyed or glad that Faith had pretty bluntly taken command in front of his people.

Granted, it wasn't all his people- Jack had come with.

But when they'd faced down that Volus to gather info about Fade she'd taken the lead without waiting for him to step in. It wasn't that he ever minded following her, that'd never been an issue between them and it wasn't now, but damn it, this was his score to settle. Every single one of these people she negotiated with instead of demanded from was standing between him and Sidonis, and they were wasting time. When they weren't fighting, the impatience felt like an itch.

In combat, though, they flowed together perfectly.

A bipedal LOKI mech went down as he took it out right in the optics, sparking and collapsing as the blue glow died. “You still keeping count, or did you stop out of embarrassment?”

“Oh, I'm keeping count, Vakarian. Keeping count of the times you run your mouth!”

With both Lasina and Jack, they were covered for biotics, which made it easier to pick people off. Riva had foregone her own sniper rifle, which was probably for the best. With three of them fighting for the shots, it would turn into even more of a competitive mess.

Behind a stack of crates in the warehouse they were slowly cleaning out of Blue Suns and mechs, he sighted a merc just in time to watch Faith crack through his shield, leaving a scorch on his chestplate. He had to admit her rifle loaded faster, but what the hell did that matter if you couldn't kill someone with one shot? Completely defeated the purpose.

“The head is what you want to aim for, Shepard, the head. Or are you afraid you can't hit a target that small?” He took the guy out while she was reloading in a spatter of blood across a white and gray shipping crate.

“Starting to look like a pretty nice big target yourself!”

“Fuck already!” Jack snapped, sending a crate into a mech, sending it to the ground.

Riva took it out with a shotgun blast, stepping forward and scanning. She lifted a hand, and gestured over her shoulder. Slinging his rifle back, Garrus rose in tandem with Faith, and they met in the aisle to pace forward, weapons at the ready.

“You okay?” Faith asked Lasina, eyeing the scorch on her white and aqua armor with an air of concern.

“Nothing a little medi-gel can't fix,” Las dismissed, glancing between them with an amused smirk. “Are you two always like this?”

“No, sometimes we're worse,” Faith confessed with a half-smile that faded as she glanced down at her sniper rifle. “I don't think I like this gun, honestly.”

“Told you,” Garrus said, not bothering to hide the smugness.

“I meant this specific gun, not sniper rifles in general, you fucking a-” The sound of gunfire from up ahead only had her lifting her voice as they double-timed to catch up. “Arrogant ass.”

They both took cover, and he noticed that despite her complaints she kept at it. That was his Faith. Not like he was going to go easy on her even if the gun wasn't exactly her favorite.

There was a lot more resistance than they anticipated as they moved deeper and deeper into the warehouse district. Damn, Harkin must have actually made some decent money. Too bad he was going to end up dead- if he was lucky.

Who knew that bastard would turn out to be Fade after all?

Garrus might be surprised if he hadn't known the guy from C-Sec- he'd always been slimy.

“Keep your asses covered and your eyes open, these mechs are popping out of crates- which means we could get flanked at any second,” Faith snapped, sighting down her rifle.

“On my left!” Lasina called.

He hadn't been worried for a second how Lasina and Riva would fight with them. They'd gotten used to fighting in small squads, in skirmishes and ambushes. The only real wild card here was Jack, but he'd been impressed so far at how she listened to Faith in combat.

Then again, Shepard was an easy woman to follow.

He could tell she was getting frustrated, especially when he saw her lining up a shot and took it before she could. Focused on the battlefield, he could still feel her glare. The cluttered warehouses made for good sniping opportunities, but he could tell that she was starting to struggle with the rifle.

Despite his teasing, it was definitely the gun and not her.

Even so... “Don't worry, we'll get you some lessons!” Didn't mean he was going to go easy on her.

“Shit!” Jack cackled from somewhere in the maze.

Faith didn't say anything.

In fact, she was silent until they managed to cut down the group of mercs and mechs, but her face was relaxed when he hazarded a few glances over at her. Maybe he'd pushed her too far? Damn it.

She always good as good as she got, he didn't expect her to-

“Hey Riva, question,” Faith finally said as they regrouped, checking over weapons before pressing onward.

“Yes, Commander?” Riva asked, sounding flustered. She seemed to get that way every time Faith spoke to her. Which meant she had a crush.

Fair- he didn't blame her in the least.

“I told you, call me Shepard. What's the whole talon thing about?”

Oh no.

Garrus had been expecting a different kind of payback.

“Let's keep moving,” he said quickly.

“What talon thing?” Riva asked, a puzzled glance shifting between them.

Lasina and Jack were both watching with fairly obvious amusement. He gave them both a warning glare, but unsurprisingly it just made it worse. Jack was grinning now, staring at them expectantly. Why did he even try?

“It's nothing,” he said, gesturing with his rifle. Now wasn't the time to get distracted. “Let's keep going. Harkin's still here, I can smell the bastard.”

“I can fight and talk,” Faith said with a shrug, leading the way. “Something about what people say about a guy with blunt talons.”

Lasina gave him a significant look as they pressed forward, but he could see her lips twitching with amusement. Ignoring it, he brushed past her. Didn't manage to avoid hearing her laugh faintly from behind him.

Okay, maybe he deserved _something_ , but did he really deserve this?

“I blunt my talons. It's just considerate,” Riva said, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I didn't think you were judgmental like that.”

He shook his head at her. “It was just a rude joke, can we drop it?”

“It's a sex thing,” Jack said with brusque accuracy.

“It's an old and _inaccurate_ turian joke about how sex is what keeps talons sharp. You know, because of the grabbing,” Lasina said, taking pity on everyone but him. “A guy with blunted talons either can't get laid and masturbates too much, ...or is strictly a bottom.”

“Well, now it's also a way of calling someone- you know. Someone who doesn't like other turians...” Riva hesitated, glancing at Las as if looking for rescue. Her sub-harmonics were chock full of awkwardness- not that you had to be able to hear them to tell.

“Alien-fucker,” Lasina said cheerfully, before Garrus could interrupt.

Jack cackled.

And of course that was when they ran into another group of Blue Suns, this one more difficult than the last. Concentration cut conversation back down to commands and quips, though he could _feel_ Faith's amusement the entire time. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her. It was a joke anyone would make, a joke that he'd heard a thousand times before, but there was a difference when everyone already knew what it meant.

Explaining it made it worse.

The worst part was, it wasn't even that funny of a joke.

They cut through the mercenaries, and he fell in at Faith's gesture, following her as she hunted for the controls for the bridge to lead them further in. When he caught up, she flashed him a sly sidelong smile. When he shook his head and chuckled, she averted her eyes.

“I was only curious, sweetheart.”

“So you could have asked me,” he said.

“But this was funnier, and you annoyed me on purpose,” Faith said, which he couldn't really argue with. “So are you not gonna blunt your talons for me, then? Or can your masculinity not take it?”

Flirting in the field wasn't exactly one of Faith's usual vices, but the tone of her voice was definitely not the usual one they bantered in- no, it was the more private one.

They entered a small office area, and he leaned against the doorway as she moved for the controls, slinging her rifle onto her back again. He waited until she was done to respond. At the cuff to his shoulder, he pushed off the wall and turned to follow her.

Well hell, if the Commander was going to flirt with him, it'd be rude not to return the favor.

“My masculinity's just fine, thanks. Rock solid. I'll be happy to prove it to you later.”

“Hmmh,” she replied, giving him a brief look over her shoulder before continuing on her way. “I wonder if you know how dirty that sounded, or if it's another translator thing.”

“I was shooting for about twenty five percent,” he said, leaning his rifle against his shoulder as they headed for the bridge where the other three had gathered. “How'd I do?”

“It was more like seventy five on my end.”

“Close enough. Kind of like your aim,” he said, and then laughed as she slammed her fist into his armored shoulder. He pretended to stagger to the side. For her.

It helped ease the tension as they cut their way through the last barriers between them and Harkin.

Faith finally got fed up and flung her rifle into the face of a mech when they ended up pinned and flanked. As much as he teased her about them, once she whipped out her pistols they weren't flanked for long. He would have said something rude, but he was too focused on hacking his way into one of the massive YMIR mechs as Jack got its shield down for him.

It made the fight a lot easier to handle.

He was here, though, at last. Finally was going to get his hands on the slimy bastard. As they headed up towards the office at the top of the warehouse, Faith gestured silently, and they split up to flank the room from either end, him to wait for her to breach. When she'd picked up turian military hand signs, he didn't know, but she was pretty decent at them.

With Riva at his back, they slipped to the other exit to wait. It was easy enough to hear, at least.

After a few seconds, he heard the other door open.

“Hey, Harkin. Been a while.”

“You were close, but not close-”

Garrus could hear the steps getting closer, and spun and rose to his feet just in time to meet the man coming his way. Lifting his rifle, he slammed it into Harkin's jaw, stepping in against him so he couldn't scramble backwards. While he was clutching his nose in pain, Garrus casually threw his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed the guy by the back of his shirt. He didn't look at Faith.

Didn't want to right now.

Slamming Harkin into a wall, Garrus arm-barred him across the shoulders, pressing dangerously close to the throat. “So, Fade...couldn't make yourself disappear, huh?”

“Come on, Garrus. We can work this out. Whaddaya need?” the greasy little pyjak said.

Slamming his arm into Harkin one last time for emphasis, Garrus pushed him back and turned around, pacing away. “I'm looking for someone.”

“Well, I guess we both have something the other one wants,” Harkin said.

Really?

The bastard had just thrown everything he had against them and lost, and he still thought he could pull something? Irritated and impatient, Garrus turned back. A quick knee to the stomach sent Harkin back against the wall again, and then to the ground, groaning in pain.

Faith was still silent.

“You helped a friend of mine disappear. I need to find him,” Garrus said, cutting through the bullshit.

“I might,” Harkin said breathlessly, scrabbling to his feet, “need a little more information...than that.”

“His name was Sidonis. Turian, he came from-”

“I know who he is, and I'm not telling you squat,” Harkin interrupted. “I don't give away customer information. It's bad for business.”

Shame.

Another, harder knee to the gut in the same spot sent Harkin to the floor again. Garrus was pretty sure he'd felt something in his shoulders give, too, at the punishing clutch of his fingers. Rolling around on the ground left the bastard's neck vulnerable, and he put a boot on it.

“You know what else is bad for business?” he asked, increasing the pressure until he heard Harkin start choking. “A broken neck.”

“All right! All right!” he choked. “Get off me!”

Just a little more pressure to drive the point home, and-

He felt the slightest touch on his elbow, pulling him back. Just a hint of pressure, more a beckon than a demand. Without looking at Faith, he kicked the guy out from under his foot and pulled back, anger seething.

Harkin scrambled back against the wall, pulling himself up to sit as he clutched his throat with a hand. “Terminus really changed you, huh, Garrus?”

Tired of talking to the bastard, Garrus gestured to the console. “No, but Sidonis...opened my eyes. Now arrange a meeting.”

Harkin pushed to his feet, glancing from Shepard to him, and then over at the console. Impatiently Garrus tilted his head again. He sure was dragging his feet a lot.

“I'm going,” Harkin grumbled, and then staggered to the console.

Drawing his pistol, Garrus stared down at it contemplatively as he listened. Harkin was surrounded, he didn't need to be afraid he'd run right now. As tempting as it was to just get rid of him- no. There were people here whose job it was to take care of losers like Harkin. These weren't his streets to clean.

But he also couldn't let him disappear again...

Faith stepped in front of him, but he couldn't meet her eyes, not right now. Not until this was over. When she slapped his upper arm lightly, he just shook his head, turning away from her.

“It's all good. He wants to meet you in front of the Orbital Lounge. Middle of the day.”

Garrus could see the shifting of his weight, the uneasy movements. The bastard was going to try and slip away. He really couldn't let that happen.

“So, if our business is done, I'll be going...”

Well, at least he was an optimist.

Fisting a hand in the front of Harkin's shirt, he grabbed him halfway into the turn, yanking him back around and in close. “I don't think so. You're a criminal now, Harkin. Well, let's be honest. Even when you were in C-Sec, you weren't much of a cop.”

“Like you're any better. Everybody's heard why you left,” Harkin said roughly.

Anger rose, his hand twisting. “I am nothing like _you_.”

“So, what...you're just going to kill me? That's not your style, Garrus.”

Wasn't it?

Staring Harkin in the eyes, tension in the hand clutching his pistol, he struggled. He'd killed plenty on Omega, and it wasn't like he got every life story. Maybe this was his style now, maybe-

“Kill you? No. But I don't mind slowing you down a little.”

He'd nearly forgotten Faith was there, but like she had before, and like she probably would again, her hand reached out at the last second and turned his gun aside. This time, though, he wasn't grateful for it. When she grabbed his wrist and jerked the pistol upwards, he fired into the ceiling, and then ripped his arm from her grasp.

Finally their eyes met, but her calm, even stare killed his anger with her before it could even get going.

No, she wasn't the enemy.

“C-Sec will find him,” she said quietly.

“I guess it's your lucky day,” Garrus said icily to Harkin, stepping back with a shake of his head.

“Yeah. I hope we can do this again real soon,” Harkin said smugly, like he hadn't almost gotten shot. Did he not realize how lucky he was Shepard was here? And that she was taking pity on him?

She might be content to let him have the last word, but...

Harkin went down, hard, when he slammed his skull into him. It wasn't a shot to the leg, but the headbutt at least satisfied him enough to turn and leave at Faith's side. She gave him a tired, but tolerant look as they all filed out.

“Really?”

“I didn't shoot him.”

Oddly, he didn't feel all that annoyed about her deflecting him, even in front of his people. Well, maybe it was because she'd already made it pretty clear she was in charge here. Hell, maybe he was grateful she was.

He was definitely grateful that she didn't seem upset with him.

“You know, he hit on me once,” Faith said casually as they left through the door. “Told me I had a sweet little ass. Among other things.”

“There's still time to get in a shot or two.”

“I've got nothing to prove to someone like that, Garrus, and neither do you. Come on, we've got time before the meeting- let's grab a drink and talk tactics before getting some rest,” she said confidently, glancing up and flashing him a smile. Her eyes shifted over his shoulder. “Sound good?”

“Definitely, we're still on board,” Lasina said.

“Jack?”

“What the hell. It's not like there's anything better to do in this place,” Jack said, which was about as close as she got to enthusiastic agreement.

“Garrus?” Faith asked, meeting his eyes again.

“Sure. Better not to go in without a plan.”

He might only get one chance at this.

Harkin was one thing, but Sidonis was another- he was not going to let him go. He owed it to everyone they'd lost, to Riva and Lasina, and even Denir despite his cutting ties. They'd been a team. Sidonis had destroyed that, and now it was his turn.

Garrus just had to figure out how to convince Faith that killing Sidonis was the right thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday!
> 
> Been writing (a little slower than this) a [ Mass Effect: Andromeda fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229810/chapters/71771901). I know Ryder/Reyes might not be to everyone's taste, but if you're interested, please give a read! <3 
> 
> Thanks for reading and kudosing and commenting and all that good stuff, it makes my lockdown days brighter!


	27. Chapter 27

Watching Jack dance across the chaotic, noisy bar, Shepard idly turned her drink in her fingers.

Girl had some moves.

It'd been so long since Faith had gone. When she wasn't able to go out to eat, or do a lot of the stuff other people would do on shore leave, drinks and dancing had been her safe go-to. She actually didn't know if Garrus danced. She should ask him.

Later, when he wasn't so occupied.

“- and we drove the Mako off the ship just like that. Free-falling.”

Amused, Faith gave him a sidelong look from her seat next to him at the table, lips pursing into a smile. We? Okay, honey.

Tolerantly, she reached down and patted his armored thigh, and then let him take her hand. They'd ditched the armor, but he was still in his. Unsurprisingly. She needed a can opener or something to deal with his turian ass.

“I recall you yelling at me at the time for it. Cried, in fear, as we dropped.”

Giving her a betrayed look, Garrus lifted his brandy and pointed it at her, mandibles dropping. “I did not. Stop ruining my story.”

“I'm enhancing it.”

“You can go to hell, Commander Shepard.”

“All right, your ass is drunk,” she said, sighing when he leaned his weight against her shoulder. Glancing up at the enraptured Lasina, she laughed lightly. “I'm sorry. How did you put up with him for so long?”

“He did a lot of leaving the room to go stare off into the distance. It's kind of nice to see him being less taciturn,” Las admitted, grinning when the betrayed look was turned on her.

“So basically he was being Batman. Got it.”

“Who's Batman?” Garrus asked, peering in her glass as she lifted it. “Gin again. Disgusting.”

“Well, don't steal my drinks, then. Batman is a superhero. He spends most of his time being sad. So if you're Batman and I'm Wonder Woman, I've got some bad news. They don't hook up.”

“In this story they do,” Garrus replied, nudging his forehead against the side of her head.

Faith grinned, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. Cheesy bastard. She was pretty sure she'd had one drink for his five, but considering her current state that was probably for the best. Getting tipsy off a single martini was embarrassing.

He probably wasn't drunk, but she was fairly certain the other, very silent turian at the table was.

Riva had been goaded reluctantly into her fourth drink, and was avoiding it with that particularly intent air of someone who knew they shouldn't drink it. She was giving her girlfriend the occasional glance, a little uncertain, almost worried. They'd exchanged a few complicated looks.

Faith was starting to get curious.

“We didn't tip over anyways, so-”

Riva interrupted her abruptly, hands slapping down on the table. “Commander Shepard. Give me your child.”

“Oh no,” Las sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

What the-

“Uh, what?” Faith asked, a laugh stuttering over her blank, confused words.

“Woah, hey, she's mine,” Garrus protested tipsily.

“No, I mean. Your child. The child,” Riva said, drunkenly earnest, dual-toned voice low. “She is small and cute and angry, and I like her very much. And we- we want to help. But I think in our situation it's better if we- if we go to Illium, it's a safe place. Garrus said you needed a safe place.”

“Um...”

“A safe place to send the child. I mean. Emi. Lasina and I have been talking about having a child eventually, and I think if we do it's not good to be on the Normandy with you, if you let us, I mean...but I don't want to go back to what I was doing. I was unhappy,” Riva rambled, taloned hands twisting around her drink.

“You're too good for corporate security,” Garrus said, like he was actually tracking this conversation.

Faith sure wasn't.

“I um- I don't know a lot about Illium. Just that it's a non-Republic asari world. That doesn't make me feel great about it...”

She had a lot of experience with evil corporations running worlds. Shades of Noveria right there.

“I admit that asking to- to experiment with fatherhood on your child is strange and not ideal but the situation is strange and not ideal,” Riva said, hands flat on the table as she stared intently at Shepard. It was a penetrating stare.

“Well, I didn't even know I had a kid, so you're one up on me.”

“It's worth thinking about,” Garrus said.

Well, she sure wasn't going to ask Garrus about them right now- in front of them.

“Yeah, I'll think about it. Maybe we should talk about it tomorrow. Tonight isn't a great time, my brain is already full. David finally managed to find someone to dig up Emi's info, they couldn't find it before, but I was trying to figure out if she had living family, so I had them look on Earth...”

Garrus pulled back a little, giving her a curious look. “She's an orphan, isn't she?”

“In the system, yeah,” Faith said, tossing back her drink as another round was brought to the table. Who had bought it, she wasn't sure. She'd only paid for the first round. “But technically she was abandoned. Her mom ditched her here and ran off to Omega with some guy. I mean, she could possibly even be alive. Em's got distant family in Hokkaido, on Earth, but she doesn't speak much Japanese and they have no idea who she is, so...”

“Do you know what her mom's name was?” Lasina asked, leaning forward on her elbow, other arm latched around Riva's. “I did live on Omega for like...some years.”

“Akane Hashimoto. I have a picture somewhere in my messages from David...” Faith said, freeing her hand from Garrus' lax one to bring up her omni-tool.

“Garrus?”

Blinking and glancing up at Riva's worried question, she realized he'd gone very still. She gently tapped his arm, but he shook his head lightly. “Let's see the picture.” He sounded almost sober this time.

Oh no.

Frowning, she brought it up and turned it towards him. “Tell me you don't know her, please.”

If he did, considering what he'd done on Omega...it couldn't be good. Could it? She wasn't worried about losing Emi, but the rest of it was...

“Yeah, if that's her, I saved her life once,” Garrus said brusquely after glancing at the picture. “She was a lot thinner, and I'm not great at telling humans apart all the time, but. Name matches. She almost got kidnapped by slavers, and worse. I took them out, but she'd been overdosed. Took her to Mordin. After that? No idea. She was living on the street with a bunch of other addicts.”

Shit.

Faith felt like a ton of bricks had landed on her. “Okay. That's um...new info. But when did you- how long has it been? Do you know if we can find her or-”

“Don't. Not tonight,” Garrus told her, leaning against her when she nodded numbly. “We'll worry about it tomorrow, okay star?”

“Okay,” she agreed quietly, forcing a smile when he gave her a light pat on the knee.

“I'll be right back, I need to hit the bathroom,” he said, getting up from the table and heading off.

She watched him go, complicated, twisting feelings simmering in her stomach as she tracked him across the chaotic floor. When he disappeared, she stared at where he'd gone. The whole situation was kind of weird and complicated.

Emi's mom...might be alive.

Faith kind of hoped she was, because she wanted to punch her.

“It's sweet that he calls you star,” Riva said, drawing her attention back.

“He said it's a turian endearment. Isn't it?”

“Sort of, but it's not always romantic,” Las said, smiling faintly. “It's Castellus. The star? It used to be an important navigation tool for turians on Palaven. It's the first system they traveled to outside of their home, too.”

Oh, like the North Star.

_Oh..._

Okay, that was pretty ridiculously romantic.

“It guides people home,” Riva said in an abrupt, flustered blurt. Faith had a feeling if turians could blush, she'd be blushing.

“He was pretty lost without you, Shepard,” Las added, quietly.

“Oh jeez,” Faith muttered, pretty sure she was turning a nice shade of red. Lifting her hands to her cheeks, trying to quell it, of course that was when Garrus returned. He was grumbling as he settled back down next to her. “What's wrong?” she asked, trying to distract him from her flustering.

She was embarrassed, but it was a nice kind of embarrassment. There was a warmth there in the pit of her stomach, soft and pleasant. She was surprised, actually. It would be like her to get prickly about it, but it just felt...nice.

“Jack gives me a headache.”

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean!” Riva said, glancing past him. “Trying to figure out all that information at a glance is-” At Faith's puzzled glance, she explained, “the tattoos. It's just a lot to try and take in when you're face to face with her.”

Oh right, clan tattoos were sort of a form of communication, she supposed.

“I think the only thing she's trying to get across is 'I like tattoos'.”

“Kinda like yours,” Garrus chuckled, and then leaned down closer at her frown. “What? Did I say something wrong? Also, why are you red?”

“Shut up,” she protested, shoving his face away. “I'm just...my tattoo is gone now, it just bugs me a little.”

“Oh, I forgot. Sorry, star.”

Damn it, he kept saying it. How was she supposed to not blush when he kept saying it?

“It's okay.” At the curious looks she explained, “I lost it in the uh...reconstruction, I guess.”

“Oh. Yikes. Sorry,” Las said with a grimace.

“It's okay. Wasn't this supposed to be a strategy meeting or something?”

“What is there to strategize? You go there, draw him out, I take him down,” Garrus said, gesturing with his drink so hard that it sloshed over his hand. “Done. Over. Then we can move on.”

“I don't know that-” Riva caught Faith's eyes across the table.

Seemed like they were in the same boat. “We don't know we have to kill him, Garrus. We can't really know until we know why he-”

“Not your op, not your call, and I don't need to know why,” Garrus said harshly.

Las gave her an apologetic look. “I agree with him, Shepard.”

“I don't like you talking to me like that, honey,” she replied mildly to Garrus, not surprised.

It worked, instantly, to her relief. His voice softened. “You're right, I'm sorry. But...”

Faith shook her head. “This isn't a but sort of situation. I don't agree with how you're handling that, and I'm not going to change my mind. I do understand that this is your op, but I can't agree and I don't want to be convinced. Maybe it's better if I stay behind.”

“I- I need you with me, please. Keep me steady,” he said quietly, leaning down towards her.

She sighed, but reached up and cradled his cheek, thumb stroking along his mandible. “Okay. Under protest.”

“Protest recognized.”

“Hey.”

Glancing up, Faith dropped her hand and turned her attention to Jack. She grabbed the drink that had been delivered for her off of the table and tossed it back, slamming the empty down seconds later.

“Hey,” Faith replied, lifting her chin.

“Gonna go have sex in the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Faith said mildly, ignoring Garrus' faint sputter. “Do you have protection?”

“You're not _my_ mom,” Jack laughed, smile going feral as she glanced at Garrus. “Don't choke there.”

“I mean, if you wanna explain to Karin why you have the really bad venereal diseases, don't let me stop you,” Faith said, lifting her martini for a sip.

“I've got a fuckin' condom, relax.”

“Okay. If I don't see you in twenty minutes I'm coming to look for you.”

“Thanks,” Jack said simply, and turned on her heel to saunter off.

“Oh, to be young again,” Lasina sighed nostalgically.

“Is it rude to ask how old you are?” Faith asked. She was pretty sure Liara had never minded, but she wasn't her whole species.

“No, but she'll just lie,” Garrus said, lifting his glass. “She's never told me the same thing twice. Must be the human side making her such a pain in the ass.”

“Well, you can't be that old, if your dad's human,” Faith reasoned.

“I'm old enough,” Las said with a smirk on her green-tinged lips.

“Fifty four,” Riva said, and then laughed when Las turned a betrayed look on her, almost a giggle. It was odd hearing a turian giggle. And cute.

“Shit, and Liara said she was pretty young for an asari,” Faith muttered, but Garrus spoke over her.

“You...you damn liar!” he snapped, jabbing a finger at Lasina. She just smiled, smug as anything, leaning back in her seat. “You- how the hell are you even out on your own? You're a damn _baby_!”

“I had my maiden ceremony at fourty two. That is pretty early, but I'm an impatient sort of person,” Lasina acknowledged with another laugh. “Wow, you're actually mad at me, aren't you?”

“All the times you would say 'I'm older than you, you should listen to me',” Garrus sputtered.

Amused, Faith gave him a little pat on the thigh.

“Well, I still am older than you.”

“Not for an asari!”

“Time moves in a linear fashion no matter your species, honey,” Faith said, laughing when he turned his head and glared at her. “Drink your brandy and stop sulking. Sorry, he's just mad because he's a baby himself and gets pissed when people remind him.”

Garrus gave her a hard look. “Don't start with this again.”

“He was one of the youngest people on my ship on the SR-1.”

“... _Faith_.”

“He's not even twenty seven yet,” Faith said with a broad grin.

“So how's it feel being almost thirty?” he replied, setting his empty glass down on the table.

“Does it count if I didn't age?”

Frowning with a thoughtful twitch of his mandibles, Garrus gave a faint 'hmm'. “You know...I don't actually know.”

“I feel a little weird that I'm older than you,” Riva admitted, reaching up and rubbing at her fringe.

“Don't overthink it,” Garrus said, giving Faith a look that made her grin. “Faith's just being a pain.”

“You have a young heart,” Las laughed, twisting both of her arms around Riva's. “Also, you're drunk and you always fall asleep when you're drunk. You know you're too heavy for me to carry.”

Faith blinked and glanced between them as Riva nodded seriously. “Wow, if you said that to a human woman you'd probably get your ass kicked.”

“Well, you're not heavy. You're tiny,” Garrus informed her, and then laughed when she slapped his arm. “So you don't want to be called heavy, but you don't want to be called small, either. Confusing me, Shepard.”

“No one said inter-species dating would be easy,” Las said cheerfully.

Garrus gave a faint 'hmm', laugh trailing off. Faith poked at him, and he shook his head lightly. “Just...well, we haven't really dated. At least not the way people usually do.”

“So instead of going out to dinner, we go kill Collectors. Same thing, really,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. The idea hadn't ever really crossed her mind. Besides, they were sort of in the middle of a mission.

“But we could. If you wanted to, I mean. Go out to dinner,” Garrus said, very tipsily earnest.

“Sweetheart, it's long past dinner time.”

“I didn't mean right now,” Garrus said testily.

“But even so, I don't know why you couldn't. Take the seconds while you've got them, right?” Las said with a shrug. “We probably need to head home, though. Riva's going to fall asleep and then I'll have to leave her here. Tomorrow at midday, right? We'll meet you at the docks?”

“That works,” Faith said, a little bemused by Garrus still. “Sleep well.”

“Think about what I said,” Riva said, pushing both hands down on the table. “I think you're- I think you're really great. Amazing. And I wanna help. I really want to help. And your small child is very cute.”

“Okay,” Faith said, unable to help the laugh.

“You sound like you're going to kidnap her or something. Come on, let's get you out of here before you scare Shepard.” Dragging Riva up from the table, Las flashed them both a broad smile. “See you tomorrow. Don't keep each other up all night, huh?”

“See you tomorrow,” Faith said, lifting a hand.

The pair headed off, and she leaned in against Garrus' side. He was watching them go, expression blank. As far as she could tell. Relaxed and comfortable, just hovering on the edge of tipsy, she watched him, listening to the music and the chaos of the bar.

He seemed deep in thought.

“Hey.” She poked the tip of his mandible.

“I wish things were easier for you.”

Blinking, she tilted her head, poking him again so that he'd look at her. “What does that mean?”

“Just...just that, I guess. I hate that everything's so complicated for you. I know you're used to it, but it- every now and again I get a second to realize how tough things have been. I was remembering how things were before. The ah- the first time.”

Faith shrugged, feeling oddly touched. “It's nice to be able to just touch you, yeah. And eat food. Even if most of it still tastes weird. Honestly, sweetheart, when you're used to it, you don't think about it as much.”

“And now this whole thing with Emi...it's just rough. And we're getting thrown from one crisis to the next and I worry about you. I worried about you before, too. I haven't ever done that before. I've been- maybe I've been avoiding thinking about what you told me before.”

“I tell you a lot of things,” she said, reaching for her drink and taking a sip. “Do you think you could be a little more clear?”

“What I said. After we fought Saren, and...I just want to get this out, and be honest with you.”

Suddenly, oddly nervous, Faith nodded her head, setting her glass down. “Okay, I'm listening.”

“I think, maybe even if I hadn't thought about it, or admitted it to myself before I- before I dropped it on you like that...I think it was true. I think I just didn't realize it because I was so caught up in everything happening around us and then I said it at the worst time, and I...”

Garrus paused, and she fought the urge to goad him on. Her heart was in her throat, and she could feel the heat in her cheeks, but she just waited, staring up into his face. Garrus turned his head back to look down at her, and she stared into his piercingly blue eyes.

“I think I've always been in love with you, Faith. And I think I'm always going to be.”

“I um-” She cut off, completely at a loss for what to say, eyes instantly averting. There was a right thing to say, but- for some reason she was afraid to even think about it, let alone- “I...I...”

“I don't _need_ you to say anything. That's not why I told you that. Okay?”

Silently she nodded, and then curled in against him in relief when he offered his arm to her. It tightened around her, pulling her in, and she took a few deep breaths, wishing yet again that he wasn't in his armor. Grateful he understood, but still feeling a confusing amount of upset and discomfort, she let out a long, shaking sigh.

Even despite the stupid armor, when he spoke again, she could feel it. The soft buzz of the parts of his voice she couldn't hear, sinking into her skin and calming her heart. She closed her eyes, and let it soothe her.

“Sorry. I know it's probably not a great time but I just realized it and I didn't want to say it at the absolute _worst_ time again. It's just...everything's easier for me now that we've worked things out. I don't know how to explain it, but I can't imagine dealing with this without you.”

“...takes the edges off.”

“It- yeah. That's a good way to put it. Being with you makes everything less sharp. Less painful.”

Maybe it was time for her to be a little more honest, too. “Garrus, I've never-”

“You know, it's kind of fucking ridiculous that you two try to pretend you're not joined at the hips on the ship.”

Shit, Jack.

Pulling up from the safety of Garrus' side, Faith opened her eyes and wrinkled her nose at the biotic. “Listen, miss rando bathroom sex, I don't need you judging me.”

“It's better for the crew to not make those kinds of things obvious. It's not a turian ship, where people wouldn't give a damn,” Garrus said, hand shifting to her waist as Faith sat up properly.

“Plus they wouldn't be able to hide it on a turian ship,” Jack pointed out, plopping down and swiping Faith's drink. Faith glared at her. “I'll get you another one, don't be a bitch.”

Why did everyone steal her drinks?

The repercussions of forcing Jack to come out of her shell, she supposed. “Why wouldn't they be able to hide it on a turian ship? I thought turian cruisers had decent crew quarters. No sharing.”

“Better sense of smell,” Jack said, staring at her omni-tool.

“Well, I knew that, but to that extent even?” Faith asked. When Garrus shrugged, she blinked. “Dang. I guess that explains why you don't make a big deal out of it. Can't hide it.”

“The human obsession with sneaking around does make things more dramatic. On a lot of levels, really, when you think about it.” Garrus gave her a significant look.

Faith flipped him off.

“Let's get drunk and go get tattoos,” Jack suggested.

“You know, that's not a half bad idea,” Garrus mused, glancing down at Faith. “You could get a new one. I don't really think you need another one, Jack.”

“Sure I do,” she dismissed.

“A tattoo isn't something you get on a whim,” Faith said, and then immediately realized this was the wrong crowd to say that. She changed tactics. “It's not fair, Garrus can't get one.”

Garrus gave a faint 'hmm'. “There's a place that does turian tattoos, too.”

“Or we could go get some markers and scribble on him,” Jack suggested with a cackle.

“Draw a little mustache on him,” Faith said with a chuckle. Finally she relented, giving a long sigh when he nudged her shoulder. “Fine. But only if I can think of something I _actually_ want. I reserve the right to change my mind.”

“Property of Garrus, right across the ass,” Jack suggested lazily.

“Well...” Garrus mused, and then laughed when Faith slapped his arm. “Maybe not.”

When two drinks were delivered to the table for her, Faith shot Jack a look. “I was _dead_ , Jack. I have no alcohol tolerance.”

“Good,” she snarked, picking up a shot of what looked like tequila from the salt on the rim. “It means you're less likely to back out.”

“I am not going to back out,” Faith snapped, before she realized that she shouldn't have said that. Well, too late now. Sighing, she reached for one of the martinis.

This was going to end badly, wasn't it?

Faith wasn't joking about her alcohol tolerance being shot.

She'd started singing at some point when he was trying to get her back to the Normandy, and was currently curled up against his shoulder subjecting him to a very drunken rendition of a song he seemed to remember from her music. He should probably remember to send her that back. There was no way they'd recovered her original omni-tool. He was annoyed it'd taken him this long to think of it.

It was a little awkward to be dragging Shepard back to her ship like this, but she was refusing to walk, so he'd deal with it.

Still, carrying the Hero of the Citadel through it against his chest was both embarrassing, and more than a little funny. If only the people they passed by knew that was who was cuddled up against his cowl with her arm around his neck, singing quietly to herself. He pulled up her hood a bit more, to make sure no one would notice.

Didn't need pictures on the extranet.

He'd seen Faith drunk. This was worse than drunk. This was _sloppy_ drunk.

“Hey, if you're going to throw up, warn me.”

“Don't make the ship rock, then,” she muttered, interrupting her singing. “Steady as she goes, Captain.”

“Aye aye, Commander.”

She went silent, and he let his mind wander. Still not entirely sober himself, he was in much better shape than her. Had to be, for tomorrow. Couldn't have his hands shaking when he finally took down the bastard that had stabbed him in the back.

Tonight had been what he needed to get his head clear.

Even if they disagreed about what was going to happen, she still promised she'd be there. Everything was going to be all right. This would be over, he would have done his duty to his people, and he could focus on Faith's mission and being at her back.

“Jack is a bad influence on me and my arm hurts,” Faith sighed.

“Yeah, well, human tattoos are a little more involved than ours, that's for sure,” he said, both rueful and amused. He hadn't actually realized what he was asking her to do at the time. He figured they'd be in and out in a half hour. Not at all the case.

“All you had to do was slap some paint on,” Faith grumbled.

“It's...a little more complex than that, but sure.”

“I'm sorry for copying you,” she said apologetically, pulling up just far enough so he could see her flushed face, her lips pursed. “You're not mad, are you?”

Mad? How the hell could he possibly be mad that they had matching tattoos? “It was your ship, honey. Not mine.”

They both had the red and black design of the old Normandy SR-1's nose on their upper arm- just on opposite sides. He'd known what he was going to get done before they'd even gone in there. It was the only thing that really made sense. Then again, humans seemed to have different reasons for getting tattoos- Jack had somehow found a small patch of bare skin on the back of her leg for a playing card.

When he'd asked what it meant she told him she'd chosen it at random from the book- he didn't know if that was a lie or not.

“Mmh,” Faith agreed simply, settling back down again. “I'm sorry too about the thing.”

Confused, he glanced down at her. “Hmm?”

“Earlier when you said you wished things were easier for me. I wish things were easier, too. It must be hard to be with me,” she said, sounding a little woebegone.

“Hey. No. Being with you is the easiest thing in the world for me, star,” he assured her instantly, free hand briefly cradling the back of her head.

“Yeah but. You know. The physical stuff- it's hard enough because we're two different species, and then there's my fucked up shit,” she mumbled.

Okay, this was way too public for this conversation.

Trying to shut down the conversation gently, he went with- “we'll figure it out.”

Faith seemed to be oblivious to his attempt, though. “I don't want- I don't want you to think I don't want to fuck you. I do, really, really bad.”

“Faith,” he coughed, picking up his steps. “Public, sweetheart.”

Like she tended to do when teasing him, Faith ignored him. “I'm a little nervous, because your dick is really big, but-”

“Please stop,” he interrupted her, despite the fact that he was definitely interested in hearing more. Not the place or time. But damn it, the _images_ running through his head...

“I'm trying to- to tell you things now. And I'm really drunk and horny,” she sighed pathetically.

This really wasn't making it any easier on him. At least he finally reached their destination, the elevator to the docks, and they had a little bit more privacy. “Well, you need to _behave_ yourself, because there's a kid in your bed.”

“Fuck,” Faith groused. “I forgot.”

“Can I put you down? We're getting close to the ship, and I don't want any of the crew to see.”

“Where'd Jack go?”

“She left while you were sitting on the ground demanding to go to the arcade,” he said, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

“Can we go to the arcade?”

“You have to go to the hospital in six hours, you're already not getting enough sleep, Trouble.” Stepping out of the elevator, he attempted to set her down, feeling her arm tighten around his neck. “Come on.”

“Nmmmh,” she complained wordlessly, but finally unwrapped her legs from around him, standing up straight. He let her pull his forehead down to hers, a brief contact before she released him altogether. “Can we go to the arcade next time, then?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, following as she started unsteadily making her way back towards the Normandy. “It's a date, Trouble.”

Hell, it wasn't flowers and dinner and a movie, but it made her smile.

That was all he needed.


End file.
